Sunday, January 27, 2013

At the control

A few feet down the road the front tire goes flat. I pull under a bridge to fix it. Only one tube left - wonder if I should ignore that or replenish.

Somehow I end up back at the control. I've done what I can on my own; both tubes changed out with new ones. The new tubes are perfectly seated inside the front and rear rims. Problem: no tires. Just the soft, vulnerable tubes exposed to the world.

They need inflating so I burrow further into the shop to get help. The guys are standing around absorbing, well, the ambiance of fellow guys and the bike shop. There's a spell over them and I can't get their attention. A woman is part of the crew but she's overwhelmed with emotion and helplessness. She's got enough on her plate, being pregnant. I give her a hug. Then begin diplomatic relations with the Guy Planet, trying to get the inhabitants to care about my problem.

Not so successful at that.

The control/bicycle shop has huge windows facing the street. One of these windows perfectly frames the action as a girl with light blonde hair crashes her bike and falls onto the cobblestones. She rolls over silently. Her eyes are milky white.


  1. I think this was a dream? It sounds unnerving. And frustrating.

    1. It's a dream. I think it's about trying to get help and not being very effective at that. Melatonin at work...