Twenty-Two
May 13, 2010
Spots of deep green, dark brown, black met with pops of yellow, orange, and purple color his vision as the bike’s pace increases down the country road. Trees, flowers, the warm black rubber from the bike’s front tire, pointy roofs of the old, small town houses, all of which belong to people whom they know and love, blur together. He knows that if he were to abruptly stop the bike and take a look around, everything would be as they knew it to be. That, he was confident in. He felt her presence behind him as assuredly as he did when facing her on their wedding day.
The tandem bicycle they were riding was a wedding gift, possibly the only practical wedding gift they received. It was sky blue, a color you could get lost in, and the two of them were known around town for their adventurous means of travel.
Delicate rays of sun trickle down from between the leaves overhead. While he is pumping away in the lead, she is coasting in the back seat smiling, the heels of both hands resting on the single handlebar as one hand paints the nails of the other. He vaguely smells the fumes from the polish. It was almost as if she weren’t paying a bit of attention to him or the fact that they were on a bike. However, he knew that when he couldn’t navigate over every rock or dip in the road, that she would look up at him sweetly, but then quickly peak past his shoulder to see what was coming for herself.
He peddles harder, moisture bursting above his eyebrows, so that her hair would blow back from her neck and trail after them like the tail of a comet. Something ever good to wish on.
