A Certain Rhythm, Interrupted

Sometimes all you needed to do was keep your legs moving and your head up and breathe deep, and if you did it right, everything else fell away, the anger, the resentment, the embarrassment, all the negative feelings clinging to your soul like burdocks.

There were certain moments like that, when the bicycle is part of you, feet weren’t strapped in, but actually a part of the machine, a unit, moving forward, pushing uphill, and weaving through obstacles. At this point, nothing can stop you, nothing else exists but you.

And then the light turns red and you lose it.

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