A Bike Ride

Sam took this way home every day, every single day, every day of his life. He loved to pass by the old houses as he whizzed past on his bike. They were derelict now, but he liked to imagine the times when they were filled with life and laughter. Someone had loved these homes, but now they were empty. This thought always made Sam feel a little empty, too. And as he rode past on his green bicycle, it was on this day that he decided that he was going to die.

It was a beautiful evening as he turned left to speed down the hill. The tall Victorian houses sped like motion pictures as he passed them, and the road grew steeper. Ahead of him he could see the sky; such a perfect blue, with wisps of clouds growing from the corners of the pink horizon. He breathed a sigh of relief; his last breath, he fancied. He was going to lose his home and his wife; he was going to lose his job, he had been diagnosed with depression. A kind of ‘What’s the Point?’ sentiment had took over him recently. But all that kept him alive was this beautiful scene that he saw everyday. The houses and the skies, as though the colours had been made just for him, and just for him alone. He was coming to the end of the street. He held his breath. One turn and it would be all over: a car would run him over and he would die in the most perfect place of all. He could hardly wait. Sam turned the corner and… carried on riding. There had been no car today.

Perhaps tomorrow.

The next day was more beautiful than the last. The sky was orange as Sam sped down the hill. Out of the corner of his eye he could almost see the ghosts of the residents past in the old Victorian houses. Their grand statures, made of brick and fantasy, cheered him on as he gathered speed towards the end of the road. Today would be the day. The most beautiful day of all. He opened his eyes as wide as he could as he prepared to take his last breath and turned the corner… but there was no car today either.

Perhaps tomorrow.

For weeks Sam turned the corner, wishing to die. To leave the world surrounded by the most cosy beauty that he had ever known. He wished for death each day and would ride his green bike with earnest past the derelict houses. They had known loss, just as he had done. His desire to die was so deep, for there was nothing left to do but to die when faced with such unfathomable beauty. It wasn’t so much their faces that he adored, but what they had lived. He could hardly explain it. They were not corporate. They were not clinical. They were open and warm and loving. They knew the value of life and family, they had been loved and now lay derelict. They personified Sam’s own heart. He saw them everyday and knew them, just as they knew him. He took his last breath and turned the corner… but there was no car today either.

Perhaps tomorrow.

Then one day Sam received a call from his boss. His job was going to be safe. After weeks of uncertainty, his position would be secured. This now also meant that his home was safe, that he could live there until the end of his days. This was such wonderful news, but Sam still knew in his heart that he wanted to die: perfection would not be overshadowed by living. But then Sam also received a call from his wife; she wasn’t going to leave him after all. She’d made a terrible mistake. Sam was so happy, but still he wanted to die. It was his destiny, he thought.

And so he once more turned down the street. But as he moved quickly past all of the old houses, their loving understanding reaching into his very soul and he realised that were he to die, he would never be able to see this place ever again. No longer would he see the sky contrasting against the buildings stretching in every direction. There would be no more beauty. And at once he took his first breath; the first breath in a long time that he was certain of. Today he wanted to be alive. Today he had his home, his wife, his job, and his way home forever. He wanted to live, he was certain of it now. He  was careful as he turned the corner, but then… CRASH! There was a car today.

And there would be no tomorrow.

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About Anna

Author of the Insanity Aquarium. Current fears include time as a concept, the squishiness of my right eyeball, and not being able to open this jar.
This entry was posted in Humour and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

30 Responses to A Bike Ride

  1. darkjade68 says:

    Hey Anna, make sure to Sign up in The Dark Globe Forum http://thedarkglobe.forumotion.com/

    I hope you’re well

    DarkJade-

    Like

    • Anna says:

      Hi DarkJade, what is it?

      Like

    • darkjade68 says:

      Oh, it’s a Forum for Dark Globe Readers, Crew and our Friends to talk beyond The Blog… So far there is a Writer’s Forum (To talk about all things Writing), a Photographer’s Forum (To talk about all things Photography), A Crew Forum (to Chat with The Dark Globe Crew about whatever/social thing) Dark Domain Forum (which is the name of the Forum itself), and a Dark Globe Forum (for people to talk about, and ask about The Dark Globe)…

      As you are our Friend, Pete and mine more specifically (how presumptuous of me, lol), and you are a Great Writer, I thought you might enjoy it as a place to go to Chat About Writing, or whatever you please really

      It’s basically a Warm and Fuzzy Beyond The Blog Connection Thingy, lol

      With a Dash of Intellectual Intrigue… <—-lol

      No pressure, we'd just love to have you… It would raise the IQ of the joint, lol Oh, and the Dark Humor, lol

      DarkJade-

      Like

  2. Magnificent! Do you know something Anna? This past week I had a meeting with representatives of a publishing company. They loved my new book called “Simple Observations.” The book is fairly well written, is funny, is commercially viable, an easy read, will have a wide audience, and if I’m lucky may sell a few copies. That being said; what you write is beautiful and special in it’s own way. I’m starting a second book based on a philosophical and spiritual blog I write called “Simple Thoughts.” Hopefully I can work hard and put to paper the type of writing you produce. Thanks for a great read, and take care. In case you didn’t know this is Bothered. I changed to my real name to promote my book.

    Like

    • Anna says:

      Oh Bothered- Patrick! If I may call you Patrick, of course :D I can hardly even describe how happy reading your comment has made me. Firstly, major congratulations on your meeting with the publishers! When your book is published- and if they have any logic whatsoever or sense of comic brilliance, they will DEFINITELY publish you!- I will buy a copy, and I will be so ecstatic about it that my face will certainly explode everywhere.

      And secondly, your compliment was so nice that I’ve gone all giggly. I think i have a lot of work to do before I get to a level where I feel that I’d be comfortable to be published, but all the same your kind words are genuinely appreciated.

      Just remember all of us lowly WordPressers when you’re up there covorting with all the authors! See if they sell White Russians at the offficial Author’s Bar (totally a real place). If they do, I might have to come join you sometime. Congratulations again Patrick! Your success is well deserved because of your incredible talent :)

      Like

    • Pete Howorth says:

      You should have a gangsta name so all the hip kids buy your book. Like…

      Simple Observations by Grandmaster Paddy D

      Like

  3. Ah, that’s so typically life! Always the same. You always get what you don’t want anymore. *sigh*

    Like

  4. Being a fan of the original Twilight Zone, I knew how it must end, but I still enjoyed it because your prose was so fluid. I love a good twist ending.

    Like

    • Anna says:

      i never did see the Twilight Zone… I did always love Hammer House of Horror, though. That probably goes a good way to explaining a bit. :D

      Like

  5. My “late-New-Years-Resolution” is to not correct anyone’s spelling on blogs any more. If the writing is good, who cares? So you were the last one.

    Though I think I’m more just unhappy than depressed most of the time, I’d wholeheartedly agree with a couple of you about missing the depression, odd as that seems. If I was happy and semi-upbeat all the time, it would be like living with a stranger and the stranger would be me.

    Like

  6. Pete Howorth says:

    Awesome story, if only I had a bike then this would be me!
    Though knowing my luck I’d be the one in the car and not only would I be in a neck brace, but I’d be in a car that couldn’t be fixed because the person at fault is dead. :D

    Like

  7. Not a bad story that one. Any idea what happened to his bike?

    Like

  8. M says:

    Ah, bitter irony! Isn’t that the way life works?

    Like

  9. darkjade68 says:

    Beautifully Written, but much too sad for me… As I am a softy

    Truly Dark, and Ironic… And once again, I love your use of Colors

    It reminds me of “City of Angels”, really liked that movie… But the ending, horribly sad… Same reason I can’t watch Romeo and Juliet, even though I absolutely love it.

    Now Hamlet, I can watch over and over for some reason… But his Kingdom was about to be taken over anyway, lol… But Romeo and Juliet, the whole Messenger thing, and Romeo dying right before she wakes… Argh, tears me up

    This is one of your Best Written Pieces…

    Bravo… Never stop Writing… It is definitely one of your many Gifts

    DarkJade-

    Like

    • Anna says:

      I absolutely adore Hamlet; ‘To die, to sleep; To sleep: perchance to dream’. Beautiful. R&J never quite did it for me; it always bothered me that Romeo was in love with someone else before he met Juliet and then just dropped everything to persue someone more beautiful. Love at first sight has its conditions, evidently.

      Thanks for the comment DarkJade :)

      Like

    • darkjade68 says:

      Interesting, I never saw Romeo & Juliet that way… Though in truth, most Productions, or at least many, aren’t Directed and perhaps Acted (but I blame the Direction Primarily) well. Romeo and Juliet and A Midsummer’s Night Dream more than any. The Intelligence of his Writing is Rarely Captured… I need to Read Romeo and Juliet again, to me it wasn’t just Lust or Physical Attraction that drew Romeo to Juliet… I suppose you could say it always felt more along the lines of a “Soul Mate”… Though, in my experience, even if one is your Soul Mate, it still doesn’t mean that you will be together forever… It seems as if there’s more than one Soul Mate for each of us… And it might be better called a Kindred Spirit, which can be the same sex, or the opposite sex really… You don’t have to be romantically involved with a kindred spirit I figure, but if you happen to be, it can be quite powerful. No, I’m always quite frustrated with the Direction of RJ and Midsummer. Though in truth, Mercutio is the one to pay attention to in Romeo and Juliet “ask for
      me to-morrow, and you shall find me a grave man” the dude is powerful… I guess the Story is More Powerful than the Romeo or Juliet Character themselves. Of course it is, there’s the point eh, lol. Still, there is Intelligence in every one of Shakespeare’s Words, just dying to be released. And that’s First the Director’s job, and then the Actor’s. Hamlet’s “To Thine Own Self Be True” is my E-mail Signature, though it is Polonius’s line, it comes from one of the Best Written Moments of Shakespeare’s Plays. “Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer
      The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
      Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
      And by opposing end them?” is the one that I quote most from “To Be or Not To Be”, lol. But your choice, is the most beautiful.
      Argh, I’ve gone on too long, lol. We need to start a Shakespeare Club or something, way much to talk about with him… Not to be cliche’, but he is my Favorite Writer, especially Hamlet.

      DarkJade-

      Like

    • Anna says:

      In fairness, Mercutio is pretty freaking awesome.

      And ha- Polonius! I adore that speech. Partly for its irony, and partly because it somehow gets implanted in your head. Of all the characters in Hamlet, Polonius is my least favourite… but that’s just an acknowledgement of how well written he is, to actually feel some amount of contempt for a character. I literally weep with joy when he gets stabbed for hiding in the curtain. Take that, bitch! Ahem.

      Have you ever seen Kenneth Branagh’s film interpretation of Hamlet? Bliss. It’s worth a watch if you ever have a spare 242 minutes.

      Like

    • darkjade68 says:

      Irony is a Direct Hit, as Polonius is truly a Wretched Character… I also love when he dies, lol And the dude never stops talking, ha. The Irony being that Shakespeare took his least likable Character in the Play, and has him deliver a message to his son, that is truly deep, and meaningful, and basically could be used by any Father talking to their son, even now. In reality, the Scene has more the Feeling of someone as Iconic as Zeus speaking to his son Percious… For the love he feels for his son, may be more evident in those words, than any other piece has been written about a son and father… It is of course absurd for me to say this, as I am not nearly well read enough to confirm this… But in my opinion, Shakespeare, up to his old tricks, strikes the “truly listening” audience right in the heart, should they actually pay attention to Polonius at this point, being he has already been noted as yap yap yapping none stop… Plus, he’s a Jerk, ha.

      Look thou character. Give thy thoughts no tongue,
      Nor any unproportion’d thought his act.
      Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar.
      T’hose friends thou hast, and their adoption tried,
      Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel;
      But do not dull thy palm with entertainment
      Of each new-hatch’d, unfledg’d comrade. Beware
      Of entrance to a quarrel but, being in,
      Bear’t that th’ opposed may beware of thee.
      Give every man thy ear, but few thy voice;
      Take each man’s censure, but reserve thy judgement.
      Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy,
      But not express’d in fancy; rich, not gaudy;
      For the apparel oft proclaims the man;
      And they in France of the best rank and station
      Are of a most select and generous chief in that.
      Neither a borrower, nor a lender be;
      For loan oft loses both itself and friend,
      And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry.
      This above all: to thine own self be true,
      And it must follow, as the night the day,
      Thou canst not then be false to any man.

      And I’ve seen only parts of Branagh’s Version, though it looked amazing. I remember liking Mel Gibson’s Version, though I haven’t seen it in years… I believe Mel Gibson approached Glenn Close at an Awards Show and asked her to play his Mother, lol… Well played Mel, Glenn Close was awesome.

      DarkJade-

      Like

    • Anna says:

      I’m afraid I could never take that particular speech seriously; it is too wraught with contradictions. Which is precisely the point, of course… but still, I tend to try and rip off my face when I hear it.

      Thanks for the interesting Shakespeare-related goodness, DarkJade!

      Like

  10. Anne Schilde says:

    I often think on bad days if it all ended, I would actually miss the depression. Such a fun ride. I rather like it on a green bike.

    Like

    • Anna says:

      I worry that there’d be nothing of me left if the depression suddenly disappeared. It’s nice to take it out for a bike ride every now and then.

      Like

  11. Ahhhh, my Sunday evening dose of Anna. If only I had a Sunday evening dose of some middle-aged American Anna. Or Mabel. Or Edna or Heather or Phoebe or Consuelo or Sara. I like the name Sara; it means “Princess.”

    “What are you doing out of the bedroom, Sara? As soon as I’m done reading Insanity Aquarium, I’ll be back there.” “You know this is what I do on Sunday evenings.” “Well?”

    Oh, yeah, the story–great story, as usual. Almost O. Henry-ish in its irony.
    You spelled “past” wrong in the second sentence, but correctly after that. To use it in a sentence “He rolled down the window as he passed gas while driving past the Super Walmart, wondering as he passed, “I wonder if they have cheap adult bicycles there; I think it’d be safe to ride a bike to work.”

    Like

    • Anna says:

      You are quite right, Sir! Thank you for that, I’ve changed it now.

      Names are wonderful. My real name isn’t Anna, of course, it’s purely a fabricated personality to hide behind, to publish stories of the crazy, or the not so crazy. If I could have chosen my own name it would probably have been Anna. Or Frank.

      Like

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