Tuned Spokes

A wooden wedge held the heavy lobby door propped open just enough for me to slip through. Down on the curbside pavement, an old turquoise commuter bicycle stood chained to a metal signpost. I hopped onto the front wheel hub, planting my stance firmly on the hexagonal axle bolt. Reaching out, I struck three steel spokes in sequence with the hard edge of my platform shoe. Each spoke rang out at a distinct, sharp metallic pitch against the street noise. Leaning into the rim, I tapped a clean three-beat rhythm against the hollow aluminum, feeling the vibration echo right up through my boots.