Alive, Alive

By Kelvin Knight

He connected with cycling in a way he couldn’t connect with people. People were uncomfortable, unreliable. Cycling was never unreliable. Yes, mechanical things wore out, but there were always replacement mechanical things. When he squeezed his handlebars, these scooped out sensations inside him trembled. When he pushed down on his pedals, these gnawing doubts of never being good enough feasted on themselves. Cycling devoured all the bad stuff. Cycling further and further from a village he felt disconnected from encouraged the good stuff inside him to flourish: his discipline, his dedication, his passion. Grinning, he dared to wonder what if.

––––––––––––
“Reading and writing are breath to my soul.” – the writer

Leave a Reply

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

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com 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