A Gentle Turn

I slipped through the bottom gate opening and padded along the wooden picket fence. Leaning against the pickets was a tall bicycle. Its lower pedal hung right at my shoulder height, wrapped in ribbed black rubber. I rose onto my hind feet and pressed one front paw flat against the tread. It moved with unexpected lightness, swinging in a smooth downward arc while the chain gave a faint, rhythmic tick against the cog. I dropped back to all fours, keeping completely still while the pedal swayed gently like a pendulum until the quiet returned.