A Cyclist’s Smile

I got off the bus and realized that the world had turned green.  Perhaps I should have noticed it from the bus window, but between the book, the sleeping, and the interesting commuters (drunk and fighting, drunk and mumbling, loud and obnoxious, beautiful and brazen…) I only glanced out the window.

It had obviously rained sometime during the day.  You could smell it, even if you couldn’t see it except for the green that it had promoted.  I waited for the crossing signal  and the stoplight to change while eyeing everything.

Across the street I spotted a woman on a bike.  It was a woman’s commuter bike of tan colour and smaller diameter wheels.  It crossed the intersection light as air and smooth as silk.  I cannot say with any definite resolution that she was beautiful–the combination of a bulky neon sweater, helmet, and sunglasses made making a physically determination difficult.  However, intuitively, I have come to believe she was.

We exchanged smiles as she passed.

 

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About Anthony

I am: equal parts rebel, romantic and shockingly average Joe. a writer trapped inside of an ESL teacher's body. an introverted attention seeker. a teacher who hopes one day to be called "Captain, my Captain." an intellectual who can do some very dumb things. a person whose Japan experience, despite being so long ago, still exerts a strong influence upon him. a lover of books, music, beer, hockey and Pizza.
This entry was posted in Aspirations, Reflections, Perfection, bicycles, cycling, cycling gear, smile, sun, weather and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to A Cyclist’s Smile

  1. Sounds perfect… but I wanted more. More perfect would be her stopping and asking for your number!

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