Crank Rotation

I walked past the front gate onto the sidewalk. A full-sized bicycle was leaning against the iron fence. The pedal rested at three o'clock. I reached up and draped my arms over the metal platform, then lifted my feet. My weight pulled the crank downward in one clean, quiet arc. When it reached six o'clock, gravity took over. My grip slipped off the rubber studs. I dropped four inches onto the pavement, folding loosely at the waist upon contact. The pedal swung back an inch, ticking twice against the chain. Then stillness returned. The sidewalk is wide.