Saturday, May 1

that missing week

The skipped week, because I forgot.

day 12: whatever tickles your fancy
Gosh, I love tea.

day 13: a fictional book
"Fool Moon" Jim Butcher, Book 2 of the Dresden Files

day 14: a nonfictional book
"Napoleon's Privates: 2500 Years of History Unzipped" Tony Perrottet
(I haven't read this yet, but I certainly hope to. I'll probably wait for the paperback...)

day 15: a fanfic
"Trials" semebay
fandom: Axis Powers Hetalia
summary: After an argument, Matthew goes missing. Plagued by nightmares of being trapped in darkness, Alfred realizes he was the victim of a serial killer and sets out to find him.
(I just made that summary up, because for some reason bay managed to either delete the thing or set it to 'friends only' or something. But it really is fantastic.)

day 16: a song that makes you cry (or nearly)
"And So It Goes" Billy Joel
(And that's because it was part of a very good original yaoi story I read a couple years ago, and the double meaning of the song itself and it's meaning within the story gets me crying every time)

day 17: an art piece
Dave Chihuly

Bike Rides

day 18: whatever tickles your fancy: riding my bike

It was 9:12am when she put her poor wheezing laptop to sleep and mentally sorted through her drawers for what to wear. She quickly got dressed, selecting her old beat-up and doodled on all stars. A quick pass of makeup to hide her lack of sleep, a stop by the sink to refill her water bottle, and she was out the back door.

As usual, it was warmer than she expected. Mentally shrugging, deciding the wind would make her light sweater useful, she shuffled back through her awkward key ring for her bike key. She slid the U-lock out from the heavy chain on the deck post, locked it again, and dropped it over the handlebars for transport. She heaved the bike around to the stairs, propping it against her hip, balanced on two steps, and re-gripped it for control as she let gravity take it down the stairs.

Wheeling it out the yard and to the back drive, she mounted, checked for wily cars, and pushed off down the slight slope to the gravel drive. She briefly contemplated reaching back to click on the red tail light stuck in a pocket of her backpack, but just as quickly dismissed it. Instead she focused on avoiding the potholes in the gravel. She gently gripped the rear brake, then the front one, slowing down enough to glance for cars on Gilmer before turning down it, pausing briefly where it crossed Clay, and continuing up. She clicked up one gear, paused at Marshall. She allowed a moment to enjoy the clear morning.

She came to a stop at Broad. While waiting for traffic to clear for a straight shot to Laurel, she put one foot on the curb and shuffled the opposite pedal around backwards to almost the apex of it's cycle. Resting that foot on it in preparation for the moment of movement, she looked around again. Pedestrians turned the corner next to her. Cars lined up at the light, but she couldn't get through. She glanced at her watch: 9:22. She had time.

At last traffic cleared enough for her to shoot out onto the main drag. That morning, it seemed, the cosmos was in alignment and she didn't have to stop in the middle of the intersection. Angling her body into the turn, she rounded the corner onto Laurel, standing up a bit to make it up the slight hill. At every such turn she smiled to herself, remembering the rushing wind, the screaming fun and edge of terror to riding behind her parents on their motorcycles.

She inhaled deeply as she passed the Panera, catching a slight hint of baking before remembering to pay attention before she accidentally went careening through the next street and possibly into a car. The light at Grace was red so she slowed, keeping to the curb, glancing around for cars. She came close to a stop as a car went down Grace, looked around again, behind for any cars looking to pass her, and pushed off again. It always seemed to be Laurel that was the most fraught with peril, rather than the busy Broad.

She hugged the curb as she glided through the Franklin light, passing her old dorm and the handfuls of other students on their way to classes. Glancing behind again, she swerved around an inconveniently parked SUV and slowed again as she came to the cathedral and the strange light configuration in front of it.

Avoiding a couple other students, she leaned through the turn onto the little drive that led to the Compass, wind whipping the ends of her sweater around her sides. She shook her head to clear the bits of hair from her face and slowed down for the home stretch. She clicked back down a gear and jumped the curb to the bike racks. Spotting an free space, she slowed to a stop and awkwardly dismounted. She was suddenly winded, panting hard. She tried to control it as she swung her bike around and locked it up.

Her mood damped slightly by the prospect of English, she entered the library and descended the stairs to her basement classroom.

She couldn't wait for the bike ride back.

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yeah, i'd completely forgotten about these. so i skipped a week. and yes, this is exactly my bike route from my house to my morning class.