My bike was speeding towards a bridge and I was losing control.
I reached for the hand brake but I slipped!
Then closer came the wooden pole.
I hate riding.
The wind that was roaring in my ears had stopped.
The wheels that were spinning around a lot had stopped.
The feeling of true joy though my veins had stopped.
I had crashed.
I felt like crying, “How could I miss that!”
I pictured my grandpa frowning my mishap.
Although not here I know what he’d say.
So I got up.
The wind was roaring in my ears.
The wheels were spinning around again.
I had finally had caught up to them.
I love riding.