Tiny Bicycle (Short Story)

Bike.jpg‘If I were to ride a tiny bicycle I would do it very earnestly.’
I looked at the merry-go-round before us.
‘As you spun round.’  I said.
‘As I spun round.’

Luke was a hottie I knew from the 70’s.
He was a testament to the phrase ‘young at heart.’  But also young in body.  His chromosomes had not caught up to the 90’s and, as a result, he got away with acting the child.
‘I’d ride a horse.’  I said.
‘I want you to ride a horse.’  He replied.
He looked me in the eyes.  I fumbled for something to say.
I wanted to canter, to gallop.  I wanted to hold onto his waist and never let go.
In my mind we grabbed hands, fingers interlacing, and we leapt into the unknown.

Instead I watched with a little laugh as Luke ran to his tiny bicycle, and went round, his golden hair glinting in the sunshine.

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