Bicycle

Dear Genghis Khan and his seven dwarves,

A friend of mine told me a story about her twin sister Mary, who was overweight. She went to see her family doctor. He told her she had to exercise more and gave her the address of a bicycle shop. He said it was important that she told the owner that he had sent her. She was given a blue bicycle with wooden wheels. She decided she would ride it home and then lock it in the garage forever. But when she arrived home, she couldn’t get off the bicycle because her feet were stuck to the pedals. She rode through the afternoon and into the night. When she wanted to sleep she closed her eyes and the bicycle steered itself, the pedals working on their own. Every morning at seven-thirty a.m. and every night at seven-thirty p.m. no matter where she was, the same man would be waiting on the roadside to hand her special dietary food in a brown paper bag as she rode past. She rode non-stop for exactly one year until she came to a glistening blue river. The pedals on the bicycle seized up and it came to a stop. Mary got off and sat on the bank to rest, and noticed her reflection in the clear water. She was slim and her hair had grown down her back. Someone tapped her on the shoulder. It was the man who had always given her food. He stroked her hair and told her she looked beautiful although he’d quite liked her the way she was before. A deep sound rumbled in her throat for a long time, almost like the sound of a cat purring.

Hooray for Hollywood,
from Sally, when I say goodbye
I only mean for ever.