Vanished

I used to have a bike. A very expensive bike. A bike that I loved.

It was more than a bike, it was like a two-wheeled best friend. We’d go everywhere together, me and my BBF (Best Bike Forever). We’d climb hills, race down highways, cut through traffic, narrowly avoiding tragic accidents. Oh, the good times we had.

But alas, my bike is now gone. “Stolen” would be jumping to conclusions. It sort of just disappeared out of my garage. No one broke into the garage. And only my roommates and my landlady have the keys. (Secretly I think Claire took it).

The whole thing is very suspicious. I have no idea what happened to it. It almost looks as if I rode it somewhere, locked it up and then forgot about it. For weeks. I mean, I know I can be absent-minded sometimes. But that seems too insane for even me, I assured the cops last night as they inspected the scene of the crime. They didn’t seem particularly hopeful about retrieving it. I told them to look in Claire’s room.

Luckily for the world, I am still in possession of the neon yellow jacket.