Riding queen

Even the petty shame of climbing off my bicycle in order to ascend the mountain of a molehill that has my muscles aching is not enough to blanket the excitement of owning a bike in the first place. There's this childish delight that comes over me when I feel my own speed-wind and the machine responds to the slightest of my movements. As though, if only briefly, I have the power to control something, to make it stop and go at my whim.