AnElephantCant ride a bicycle
He is not a candidate for next year’s tough Tour de France
He is quite unwaveringly unaerodynamic
He gets in a pitiful panic
Going downhill his brave brakes clearly don’t stand the ghost of a chance
Sunday Photo Fiction is a weekly challenge presented by my old friend Al Forbes.
The idea is to write a short story (200 word max) inspired by what you see in his picture (below).
This week’s great photo takes me back to when I was just a wee laddie, early mornings on a bike in freezing weather (was it really always winter?), doing my paper round.
Click on this link to enter your tale, and see what others have written.
She smiles when she sees him come into the garden, carefully closing the gate behind him.
To her southern English eyes he is almost the caricature of a Frenchman.
He sports a beret and a droopy moustache, and has a string of onions around his neck.
He speaks English with a heavy Breton accent, but the ancient eyes are kindly.
The road is narrow, he indicates…
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