A Time of Loss

At Starbucks, practicing my Japanese writing seriously for the first time (as opposed to just reading), I needed a break. So I went out to put my writing practice book on my bike, but...


Huh? Where's my bike? Haha Ryan must have moved it to play a joke on me. Wait, Ryan lives in America now! Huh?! WHERE'S MY BIKE?!!

Pacing quickly around the bike parking lot, looking everywhere, I came to accept what had happened. I sent a cell phone email to Mike and Bill, those 5 words no bike enthusiast ever wants to be true of him: "Welp, my bike's been stolen."

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO


It was a good bike. I'd just done work on it to get it back into like-new condition.
Oh well. It's been a few weeks since the event, and I recently ordered and recieved a new bike, actually the same model, newer edition. It's nice, but now I'm paranoid that this one's going to get stolen, too.

(by the way, I may have forgotten to lock my bike when it was stolen, which would have been the first and only time)