I parked on a bench under light brush in an undisclosed location between Kingsen Pond and the main road. I breathed the cool, fresh Dutch air deep into my lungs and held it for a moment before exhaling. I felt a bit giddy and took to the path again for a more joyous ride. Then, the rain began settling in.
Tinkling turned crackling on the leaves. I needed thicker brush for cover. In a bold move for rejuvenation I took my left-hand off the handlebar and up to my mouth to light up a new idea from my hand. Still harder I pedaled, feet propelling me like a turbine. I was trailblazing, with every smooth and strong rip of the crank exhuming smoke that whisped from beneath my arms and around my back behind me.
I wicked the wet but my field of vision began hazing over. I soared high over the water bridges, feeling omnipotent and hulk-like over the environment and all microorganisms below between the treads of my tires. I lost all sense of time as my adrenaline surged slowly through my bones to the tips of my fingers, prickling back across my skin. The exuberance prolonged until suddenly the rain began to secede. I put my left hand back on the handle-bar for good. A dot of light ahead of me - which I wasn’t sure was a blind spot or a hallucination- pried open my field of vision with light. The sun emerged between two clouds that were either bouncing off of each other or being pulled apart by the sun’s hands (I couldn’t tell). I parked on a bench overlooking the pond. My heart returned to resting pace. I was caught stoned in the wind.
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