sketchbook stories: the spider bike

spin cycle

You won’t remember exactly when the training wheels came off your first bicycle, but you will remember falling, knees kissed by the asphalt, dirt mingling with blood, how you cried.

You won’t remember which Christmas you got the spider bike, but you will remember the shrill chime when you rang the bell on the playground, chrome handlebars freckled with rust from the salty air.

You won’t remember the make of the metallic blue 10-speed you rode to your high school job at the gift shop, but you will remember the breeze through your hair, how that summer felt like freedom.

sketch by my mother, Karyl Bannister