Mom tried to hide her tears when she was in my room. I only smiled.
It was spring. I knew Mom had gone down to the park for her walk. I’m sure the park was filled with kids with their kites and balls and bikes. I could imagine them playing and running and riding.
With my eyes I could only see the blank ceiling, but with my mind I could see more, the shadows etched in heart. I knew what Mom saw as well; a shadow of my forever empty, lonely bicycle, the one that I’d never ride again.
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