Thursday, September 02, 2004

Stop Taking Me Over 

“Kiss my ass goodbye, Grandad!”

I shook my fist, and wobbled precariously. It felt good to be doing the whizzing past for a change. He may have had the lycra and a space-rocket for a push bike, but tonight the speed and the grace were all mine.

Oh alright. He wasn’t actually cycling at the time I overtook him. He was having a pint. And ten minutes later, I was overtaken back by the eighty year old freak of nature, but it felt good while the moment lasted.

My bottom hurts.

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