The Armed Cyclist
The Armed Cyclist - 2009
"What's that?" she asked, motioning towards the two symmetrical forks rising up from both sides of the handlebars on my bike. "They look like deer antlers, except made of plastic, of course."
I think she was being hopeful.
"It's a gun rack," I offered, nonchalantly. My eyes remained focused down into the valley. I thought I saw movement - something small - not quite a deer, but similar in color. How far was that . . . 300 yards?
"Why do you need a gun rack on a bike?" My concentration broke.
I couldn't see her face, but I knew the expression. I wondered about the animal down in the valley. Could it be a marmot? Were they this far south?
I finally turned towards her.
Crystal blue eyes framed by dark circles, like small baroque picture frames. She was beautiful, but it was wrong.
She looked lost. Longing for some words. Comfort. Anything.
It was my turn to speak.
"Honey, I don't think it's going to work out between us."
"What's that?" she asked, motioning towards the two symmetrical forks rising up from both sides of the handlebars on my bike. "They look like deer antlers, except made of plastic, of course."
I think she was being hopeful.
"It's a gun rack," I offered, nonchalantly. My eyes remained focused down into the valley. I thought I saw movement - something small - not quite a deer, but similar in color. How far was that . . . 300 yards?
"Why do you need a gun rack on a bike?" My concentration broke.
I couldn't see her face, but I knew the expression. I wondered about the animal down in the valley. Could it be a marmot? Were they this far south?
I finally turned towards her.
Crystal blue eyes framed by dark circles, like small baroque picture frames. She was beautiful, but it was wrong.
She looked lost. Longing for some words. Comfort. Anything.
It was my turn to speak.
"Honey, I don't think it's going to work out between us."
Labels: Armed Cyclist
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