Furtive. It can only be described that way. Furtive.
It sat, quietly watching, waiting. Like an Angler fish in the depths.
We rose up the hill unaware of the monster. As we passed, it reached out, like hafgufa the sea-mist kraken, grabbing my handlebars and sucking me down.
Like a whirlpool. I span out of control, or a professional footballer nudged in the penalty box.
I twisted and hopped, skipped and jumped. The bike came to an abrupt halt, like a downed Vickers. We stared at it.
‘Well you’re alright’ said Donald. ‘But how’s your bike?’
Rather annoyingly, my handlebars were snagged on webbing that had been placed around a skip to prevent debris from spilling on the road. The webbing was a little too loose, the road a little too narrow and this rider a little too unaware. The consequence was a trail of subsequent mechanical issues and some overly shiny bike parts. Still……we’re always learning on a bike, aren’t we?
With thanks to Donald for patiently helping me to sort out mechanicals. Illustration by Lord Wonk via deviantart. Adding the links was a bit of fun.