Where’d he go? I’ve been here ages. He can’t be coming back. Look. I’ve got a flat. The other ain’t much better. Someone’s pulled off me grips. Some guy. Don’t know why. look at my chain. It was a lovely gun metal grey. It’s brown now. Bright bloody brown. Like dead leaves. Or iron ore. How long have I been here? I don’t know. I’m a bike, not a watch. I s’pose I been locked ‘ere for weeks. Maybe longer.
It ain’t right.
It ain’t fair.
I was made to be ridden, not bound.
An abandoned bike is always a sad sight. Maybe more so when it’s not been stripped already and there’s no apparent reason for doing so. This bike has clearly been left for a long time, the chain so bright with rust that it added a dab of colour to an otherwise monochrome dusk. What happened to the owner? (let’s hope he’s OK) What will become of the bike? This one is adjacent to London Paddington Station.