That morning everything was made of concrete – the city, its streets, the apartment, the bedroom, my head, my mind.

I go through the motions, repeated a hundred times, always in the same order. I fill the pockets of my jersey.

At the edge of the city, I head towards uninhabited land. I glimpse clusters of trees and then denser woods.

These familiar green giants, lit from behind by a dazzling blue, lift my spirits.

//

January 27, 2020 — Le Braquet Cycling Club

Leave a comment