The Amber Wheel

I hopped out past the heavy front doors into the cool courtyard, eager for fresh morning air. Over by the garden wall, a bicycle was leaning against the low iron rack. Down on the front wheel, fastened tightly between two slender metal spokes, sat a smooth amber plastic reflector. I paused, tilting my head to watch the early sun gleam across its facets. Taking two cautious hops onto the flagstones, I pressed the flat of my flipper against the plastic rim. The wheel rolled in a slow, gentle spin with a soft, purring click, casting warm golden beams across the stone pavers before settling quiet again.