Ride It Like You Stole It
As I walked through the bike shop looking at all the shiny new bikes I wished one of them could be mine. One day my uncle came along on one of my trips to the bike store and told me, "If you really want a bike, I will get you a bike." I felt as if I could fly like a free bird because I always wanted a bike and now was my chance to have one.
I had the privilege of choosing my own bike, so I chose a red one with silver trim on it. It was a "Free Agent Limo" which is a name brand of racing bikes. I got to ride it in the parking lot to test it out.
I rode my bike in the rain and went through puddles just to feel the water spray up on my back.
When I rode down hills I would extend my feet and pretend I was falling from a never-ending building. I would keep falling until I slowed down.
I obsessed over my bike sometimes. Every weekend I would wash it and rotate the tires. I would park it in the part of the garage that seemed the least dusty so my bike wouldn't get dirty. I rode it to school and locked it up on the emptiest part of the bike rack, so that no one would touch it. My bike was like the son I never had.
Eventually, the day that I had feared was coming came. I lost interest in my bike after a while. I started to like skateboarding and not like bikes. My bike just sat still in the garage like a rock, as if to say, "Ride me! Ride me! I'm getting dusty and...