Wednesday, May 5, 2010

Dirt Apples

Yesterday, on the ride home, I stopped off at the supermarket to buy something for dinner: a flat of sausages, a bag of bok choy, and four big dirty potatoes for baking. But since my knapsack was already pretty much full, I ended up having to cycle the rest of the way with all four potatoes hanging from my handlebars in the flimsy bag I’d snapped from the roll near the bin, wrapped around my wrist and swinging with every stroke, everything feeling just fine, almost there . . . but then suddenly feeling quite different. Like that one time the rubber broke.

No comments:

Post a Comment

AddThis Widget (for sharing)

Crazy Egg (Analytics)