A Morning Spin

I slipped through the front gate onto the sidewalk, eager to see the wider street. Leaning against the low stone wall was a tall bicycle. Its dark rubber pedal hung right at my chest level, completely still. Cradling my wrapped cake securely under one arm, I reached up and gave the flat tread a firm, polite shove. The pedal whirred backward in a smooth, dizzy circle. A tiny breeze from the spinning crank brushed softly against my fur. When it finally slowed, I caught the rim with my paw to bring it to a gentle halt. It made a remarkably fine morning carousel.