The Low Pedal

I slipped out past the gate and followed the walkway to the bicycle leaning against the iron fence. Its lower pedal hung just above the stone curb, ridged with sturdy black rubber. Catching the cool metal arm, I pulled myself up onto the tread. As soon as I planted both feet on the ribbed platform, the crank dipped with a faint, smooth creak. It swung downward an inch, rocking like a suspended swing before settling level. I stretched out both arms to steady my balance, listening to the quiet hum of the chain against the gear below.