A Tilting Step

I shuffled through the ground-level gate while it was held open and slipped out into the courtyard. After spending so much time indoors, the wide stone ground felt endless. Right beside the brick wall stood a parked bicycle. Its wide rubber pedal hung just at climbing height above the cobblestones. I braced my wooden tail against the frame and pulled myself onto the tread. As my full weight settled, the crank gave a soft metallic click and rotated downward. I leaned back and forth, letting the pedal rock like a little suspended swing, holding on tight while the ridged rubber gripped the bottom of my cloth.