Cyclist

Beautiful, baby blue skies. Her almond skin glistens in coconut oil under the radiant sun. For a half-second too long, he lingers on the curves of her sparkling peppermint bikini, instead of the fast-approaching turn. She licks her sweet strawberry ice cream cone as his front tire plunges into the soft sand, bucking him over his handlebars, onto the sandy bed with a thud. Did she see him? Hopefully not. The little kid in the oversized helmet pedaling his trike like an escaped convict sure didn’t. Avoiding eye contact, he gets up, brushes off his knee caps and hobbles back to his trusty ride.