Highways are the best when you feel like taking a break from the
routine. And ergo, there I was on my bicycle, speeding my way to
nowhere. That old classic again, it's the journey we enjoy, not the
destination.
Suddenly a teenage boy came from behind in his bicycle which seemed to be really old. Perhaps his grandfather rode it too. A family legacy. Perhaps he was returning home from his work site all covered in dirt.
Suddenly a teenage boy came from behind in his bicycle which seemed to be really old. Perhaps his grandfather rode it too. A family legacy. Perhaps he was returning home from his work site all covered in dirt.
He kept on
looking at the gear system of my bicycle. Then he gave me that look, as
if challenging me into a race. I sportingly accepted and shifted to
upper gears. He fought back hard. He was putting everything into it. We
were level again. And then i realised what it would mean to him. Sport
for me, pride for him. I let him go ahead. He looked back and smiled. I
gave him a thumbs up. We both experienced joy. He, the joy of victory,
and I, the joy of defeat.
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