What I saw unsettled me: a broken wheel, a bicycle, a ten speed I think, off the shoulder, in the sand. I thought of the child who must have ridden the bike. I imagined a young boy, not quite a teenager, on vacation at the nearby campground. I saw his gritty face from the dusty road, and the perspiration from his exertion. I heard his labored breathing as he surmounted the hill, another challenge conquered, one of many on his road to adulthood.
Then the car, carelessness, I don't know on whom. It happened all too quickly. A screech of tires, the acrid smell of rubber, and a thud as the bike and boy flew into the air. For a few moments the broken wheel rolled free then it settled at the edge of the grassy meadow.
The bike, with bent frame and missing wheel was rudely left behind at the edge of the pavement, an all too real awakening to life's realities. I am a biker too.