Jack William Bell's Journal: The Prodigal Bicycle

A few days ago I complained that someone had stolen my cheap-ass thrift-shop bicycle. Well, it showed up again. Somewhat the worse for wear, but mostly intact.

I wonder what stories it could tell?

So, there I was, on the porch

[Red Warrior]

The sun had set, and there was a light fog keeping the drizzle company. In the halo of a street light, I saw a shadow pass.
I was in a funk about Jack making me stay out in this weather, and didn't think much of the shadow.
Until, I was suddenly grabbed by the seat tube, and yanked off the porch. Next thing I knew, an unfamilar butt had landed itself on my seat, and unfamilar feet were on my pedals.
The person was considerably lighter than Jack, and I picked up certain...olfactory cues...that my thief was a s

wow!

[anitar]

how odd that they returned it (or happened to be going back to your neighborhood and just dropped it off).

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