Wire and Chrome

I left the driveway apron behind, letting steady momentum carry me down the open sidewalk. Near the curb, a cruiser bicycle leaned quiet against a steel post. Low-slung frame. Heavy chrome hubs. I didn't rush the approach. Cutting a clean line toward the front wheel, I brought my bumper to a halt exactly two inches from the ribbed rubber tread. Looking up, the fine wire spokes fanned out from the center axle in immaculate symmetry, catching the high sun in sharp slivers of light. A towering mirror of my own rims. I sat square in the hub’s shadow, taking in the craft. Solid iron. Perfectly dialed.