Pittsburgh did not smell of mayonnaise that day. Odors of Hot dogs, Folger's Coffee and onions smothered me as I rode my bike downhill. I leapt over potholes, long cracks. Braked slowly. Got stuck in tram lines, then veered sharply. Pedaled faster along flat roads, sweat dripping from my forehead like ocean waves. Ecstatic, I hungrily breathed in salt memories of summer.
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Bobby Warner
14/12/2015 04:28:49 am
Very visual, Sandra...and filled with action. And that great last line--"Ecstatic, I hungrily breathed in salt memories of summer." This guy (or girl) would really be back in June, July, or August! Good job.
eric j. smith
15/12/2015 05:48:11 am
Sandra, Comments are closed.
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"Classic"
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