Her Bike

A wonderful piece from Charlottesville Winter, for Bicycle Stories Month.

charlottesville winter


She doesn’t remember anything past the feeling of flying after the car hit the rear of her bicycle.

I remember for her.

I remember the chill and darkness of her intensive care unit room.

I remember how touched her father was that we came and brought her flowers.

I remember wondering if she would ever wake up fully.

I remember when she recovered and came back to school.

I remember her slight limp as she walked across the podium at graduation.

I remember for her.


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