Today’s prompt for the KGUA (radio Gualala, California – 150 miles north of San Francisco) Monday Morning Writer’s Hour is to choose an inanimate object. Write the story or a story about the object. POV (point of view) pieces are right up my alley. Please enjoy.
He’s ignored me for years. I’m bummed. I’m more than bummed, I’m pissed off. Throughout the Maine winter, he leaves me hanging upside down in the far corner of the garage; last year I was hung out to dry in his crappy shed out back where the wind blows through the side boards. He couldn’t just talk to me, tell me what was up, tell me the truth. Nooooo, our relationship was just a slow death of neglect.
You see, nine years ago he was dazzled by the gym eight miles down the road in Kittery. Sure it’s got the sleek elliptical machines and my no account cousin, the stationary recumbent bicycle, which I don’t need to remind you, goes nowhere.
But neither one of those gets him out among my favorite girl, Mother Nature – to the seaside at York Beach, through the country roads in coastal Maine, nor up and down the mountains of the Cabot Trail in Cape Breton. And then without explanation, he dumps me like a bad habit.
But oh, my pretty, have the times ever changed. In the last two months, he’s come back begging for forgiveness now that the nasty coronavirus has come to town and closed his precious gym. I know his morning walks get him out, but they don’t give him the heart pumping ride that he craves.
I don’t have a vindictive spoke in my body. My demands for reconciliation are modest. I need 65 pounds of pressure in my tires as I’ve let the air seep out through the winter. Oh yeah, my chain needs lubing. One more thing, I need last year’s dirt wiped off my chassis.
He needs me, and to tell you the truth, I’m glad to be needed. I want to get back on the road myself; my goodness I am a road bike.
So, welcome back, Danny Boy. I think this is the start, make that a restart, of a beautiful romance.