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Undisclosed Journeys #2

  • Writer: Catapult to the Stars
    Catapult to the Stars
  • May 9
  • 2 min read

It was the middle of winter where I had my morning ride to work on my trusty bicycle. That morning, the clouds above my head were grey and opaque. Not a single dash of blue sky was to be seen. I had ridden of a somewhat hefty distance. It must have been a 5km ride. I was in a bit of a fizzle as I was to undergo a few matters of the day, and so I had no choice but to travel at a particularly fast pace. I regret the reckless decision I had made. What grievous consequences were to follow due to my careless nature?


It was a quiet street in which the incident took place. It was only but one car that made its way along the street. I stopped at the edge of the footpath while eagerly awaiting its way to turn to the next intersection. I stared at it, ready to pedal forward. The car turned to the next street and I followed behind it. I made my way up the footpath on my bike with each slow stroke of the pedals. It was not long after I realised that the sensation of the movement was no longer the same. It felt as if I was riding on a jumping castle. It was not sturdy enough to hardly produce any movement. At that moment, I hopped off from my bike to check what damage I had done. Surely enough, my back wheel had a puncture. I squished it hard like a stress ball which bounced back into shape.


I was grateful that I was only a short distance from my destination. Although, in my mind this incident was another hill I had to overcome. As I approached the usual place of where I locked my bike, I was planning my route to the next destination and back home. I let worry interrupt my thoughts, but this worry then turned to frustration. Frustration for not having things the way I wanted it to turn out to be. Frustration that I had control of, but I had let it overcome me.


This frustration was used for many things. It was used to fuel my need to walk to my next destination while strolling the bike at my side. Then it was to fuel my desire to fix my bike. All in all, I had never felt so alone. Not even my bike was there to help me. It was only determination that could get back to safety, and it worked. 


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