You’d hear a bike known by its neighbors.
You’d hear it idle like a heart practiced at staying.
We are not collecting money.
We are collecting minutes of life.
We are not arguing with anyone.
We are making room.
A chain isn’t a shackle when every link is a gift.
It is a way across.
Sometimes, when the road is empty and the sky is clean, I swear I hear two engines.
Mine, and something larger that carries us all.
I ride careful now.
I ride grateful.
At the stop sign near the school, I look at the Helmet Wall in the window.
The postcards flutter like they’re waving us on.
“Ready?” Juni asks from the back seat.
She doesn’t need my answer to know it.
We roll.
The future keeps up.
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This story is a work of fiction created for entertainment and inspirational purposes. While it may draw on real-world themes, all characters, names, and events are imagined. Any resemblance to actual people or situations is purely coincidenta
