The Amber Reflector

I walked down the stone path to where a bicycle rested against the weathered brick wall. Down low, one pedal hung suspended just above the pavers, its rectangular amber reflector catching the soft October light. I reached out, resting both hands against the grooved rubber tread to steady its gentle swing. Through the thick, honeycombed plastic of the reflector, the quiet street seemed fractured into neat geometric cells, glowing with a patient warmth. Standing there beside the tall spokes, listening to the distant rustle of leaves, gave the afternoon a comforting, grounded rhythm.