Spinning the Reflector

I slipped straight past the open lobby doors and trotted down the stone front steps! Right beside the iron railing stood a commuter bicycle propped on its kickstand. I marched right up to the front tire to check out the shiny maze of spokes. Clamped between the wires was a bright orange plastic reflector catching the morning light. I gave it a firm nudge with my snout. With a crisp metallic rattle, the wheel spun half a turn! The orange reflector whirred in a brilliant blur right past my nose before settling with a soft click against the frame.