Yellow Three Speed Blues

Riding my orange 3-speed bike north into the city night, yellowish buzz of street lamps overhead. My breath soaked whiskey barrel broke. There was a rubbing noise coming from my front wheel as I sped through intersections and past lone wanders, it rubbed louder and louder, humming to the rhythm of my breath.

As I rode up 8th I noticed a man riding towards me. We were lone riders in the half lit dark of a barren side street. As he got closer I saw his face, expressionless, just blank. His shoulder bag swung around and he reached in steadying himself with his other hand. A gun appeared in his hand and he pointed while still riding, like a cowboy. Pointing it at me, I felt my heart stop and I dove off my bike into a heap of trash, BANG! BANG! I laid there, not sure if I was hit or if the pain in my side was from the curb I dove onto. I felt that I must be okay despite my bloody knee and a scraped hand. I peaked out and saw the man standing in the street, I tried to be silent but watched him as he stood over a dead animal he had just shot. When he picked it up, I realized it was a rat, which he flung into his bag and ride off into the city night. An urban hunter!

I laid there about ten more minute feeling relieved and laughing at the absurdity of what happened. I then smoked a long cigarette staring up at the night sky, then walked my hobbled bike home. The tire still made noise.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this:
close-alt close collapse comment ellipsis expand gallery heart lock menu next pinned previous reply search share star