Evening in the Basket

The avenue crowds thinned out as night settled in, leaving the cruiser's wire basket quiet and cool. I unhooked my stenciled pouch and unclipped that heavy brass swivel from my strap. Reaching through the lower mesh, I slid the brass latch around a crosswire in the basket frame and snapped it shut, locking the whole pack down so it wouldn't slide if someone nudged the bike. Behind me, the thick retro coaster blocked the chilly sea draft blowing from the pier. I sat back on the wire floor, stretched my legs out, and watched the amber promenade lights flicker through the spokes.