Tim's First Love

The door creaks open, awaking dust from the floor with light. There she sits, stainless steel shinning proudly. Tim gently walks in, afraid of spooking a wild beast, and his converse shoes leave pads of movement on the dust floor. The red vinyl feels cool; he always had taken care of that glitter seat. Gently, he caresses the chain and rubs the residue of last year’s grease between his fingers and his heart jumps at the excitement of oiling her up again. Fingers wrap around her neck, Tim sternly pulls her up from the ground and walks her outside. He oils her chain, bounces her wheel to check for life. Lifting one foot onto a pedal, he pushes off the ground. 'The hardest part is always the liftoff', he thinks. Quickly, he swings his hips, balancing himself on top; she bucks slightly at the forgotten weight. Soon, she settles down and lets him maneuver her around the backyard. Tim looked down at the world he was now no longer a part of. Everything seemed farther away, less menacing.

"Tim!" Erin shouts from the bedroom window, "I thought you were going to mow the lawn!"

Startled, the unicycle drops Tim and falls to the ground like a opossum playing dead. Resigned, he rolls her back to her spot in the garage.