Securing the Summit

A rhythmic metallic tapping echoed from beneath the bicycle saddle. A loose zipper pull on the under-seat tool pouch was swinging freely in the evening draft, clicking against the steel post. I scaled the diagonal seat tube without delay. Planting both rigid boots onto the nylon seam, I grasped the cold metal tab with both curved hands. With firm leverage, I drove the slider deep into its elastic protective garage. The clatter ceased instantly. I hoisted myself onto the crest of the textured leather saddle. From this elevated summit, the avenue extends beneath orderly street lamps. Night watch established.

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