Dog needed some new flea/tick meds. Excuse for a ride. Also, new shoe day.
It seems silly to have an emotional attachment to an inanimate, non-sentient object. Until it doesn’t. But you and I know that the attachment isn’t just to the object, but also to what it engenders when astride it. The attachment to the feelings of release, independence, mobility, exhilaration. The satisfaction of moving yourself through the world – and being moved. That last ‘being moved’ part should be in italics, but social media is the death knell of fine writing. Love Song to A Bike by Alfred J. Prufrock. Cross my heart, hope to die. No take backs.
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