Gear Shift

The stairwell led me straight out to the ground-floor lobby, where a sleek commuter bicycle was parked by the glass entrance. I bolted across the polished terrazzo and scaled the aluminum kickstand right up to the rear wheel hub. A row of greasy steel cogs was sitting right at eye level, just begging for a tune-up. I grabbed the pedal crank with both gloved hands and gave it a vicious shove down. The chain zipped, and the toothed cassette spun into a high-pitched metallic whine. I hopped up onto the chainstay, riding the gentle vibration while the sprockets blurred into pure motion. That's real mechanical rhythm.