Friday Flash Fiction: Life is a wheel

A bit of an experiment this week, not sure if it works.

Life is a wheel
By Neil Beynon

Life is a wheel. It turns on a spoke and runs along the asphalt taking you to new places all the while spinning on the same bearings.

I love to cycle, the wind on my back and the pure rhythm of the pedals like a mantra that calms the mind, cleanses the soul. I feel better already.

It’s funny, now I’m rolling down the hill I can’t even remember what we were arguing about, stupid. I can see her now, before the argument, the tawny sunlight on her smooth thigh thrown casually over the duvet. As she wakes the beams catching the red flecks in her hair; the hidden fire in her brown locks, the pink bloom on her cheek where her head rested on the pillow: I am so damn lucky.

I’m going to call her as soon as I get into the office, tell her I’m sorry, and maybe buy her some, sh—

Life is a wheel. It turns on a spoke and runs along the asphalt taking you to new places all the while spinning on the same bearings.

I love to cycle…

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