Spoke Run

I slipped past the front lobby door onto the concrete sidewalk. A bicycle leaned against an iron hoop rack. Heavy frame, chrome spokes. I launched straight toward the front wheel hub without pausing. My lower tip clipped a taut steel wire. Ping. Sharp metallic note. Momentum carried me forward into the next one. Ping-ting-ping. Rapid ringing vibrations shot straight up into my crest. The wheel gave a fraction of an inch and jammed against the brake shoe. I didn't fight the recoil. I dropped low, locked my stance between two intersecting spokes, and caught the hum. Crisp resonance. Position held.