September 27, 2009

The mountain bike hung on the garage wall. It was deep night outside and quiet. All the back wheel spokes and most of the front wheel spokes were sound asleep after an exhausting day of spinning up and down rocky trails. The few awake on the front wheel whispered so as not to disturb the night or awaken their cohorts. They discussed dizziness remedies.

“I felt like throwing up after the first rotation. How do you keep from barfing?” asked the new spoke, a recent replacement for the spoke bent by the most recent mishap on the mountain.

“I like being dizzy,” boasted his near neighbor, no help at all.

“Never mind her, new guy,” said the spoke two stations above. “I used to be dizzy all the time, too, when I first spun. It takes a knack to avoid it. Here’s what you do. Pick a cloud to look at. If there’s no cloud, choose something far as possible on the horizon. Even plain blue sky is better than watching those trees whipping by.”

“Thanks, I’ll try that,” said the new spoke.

“I like being dizzy,” repeated the near neighbor, a silly smile on her face.


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