Like Riding A Bike
I could feel the wind teasing my pigtails. I was positively gliding. Then I glanced backward, realized my dad was no longer behind me, and promptly fell off the bike.
I could feel the wind teasing my pigtails. I was positively gliding. Then I glanced backward, realized my dad was no longer behind me, and promptly fell off the bike.
The 825 bus was supposed to be safe, full of silent commuters taking it to their jobs in fancy skyscrapers downtown. It wasn’t the 10, where you could expect crazy and a half all day long.
I’ve adopted an excellent form of escapism. I’ve been reading a lot, and I’m going to tell you about a few of my recent favorites.
After leaving college, I lost my faith in food. Now, food is what I ingest alone, usually, when I’m hungry, bored, or tired from working fifty hours a week.
First of all, opinions of cities should not be based on luck or the weather, I admit. I should really give some of them a second chance. Second, I see the shades of gray in places I’ve stayed for a few weeks or more. In these cities, I know not only the good and the bad, but also the mediocre.