When the earth cracked open at the park, the little girl was swallowed inside the chasm. It wasn't my first time positioned in entropy's graceful side, and even though I knew the wrongness of what I was about to do, I didn't even flinch. I moved past her - emptying my heart of guilt and making room for a strangely familiar reprieve. Her accidental fall was but an opportunity for me. Her little bicycle, toppled at the edge of the chasm, was there for me to take.
It was a crude metallic bike with iron pedals. A bouquet of pink daisies destroyed by the the crash was scattered underneath the wheel. I remember this, because right then, apart from the daisies everything else was gray. The large stone tiles of the park, the benches, the people. The world was colorless and so was I. I knew everyone was watching me. I could feel their eyes staring - judging me, for the terrible opportunist that I am. Yet, I could not resist. I ignored those people. They were but cloudy statues in the corner of my eye. I just had to get on that bike. Get on and ride.
So I did, but once I was on, there was no turning back. I grabbed on the handles vexed to the touch of rust. They felt brittle, ready to break if I squeezed too hard. Shivering, I realized that this was a mistake. The bicycle's seat had now grown extremely tall. Suddenly, I was sitting so far high, that the clouds were right above my head and I had to hunch, in fear of the unimaginable catastrophe which would occur in the instance of touching one. The people below were ant-like figures. They were shouting and cursing, angry at me. I couldn't hear them, but I knew they did.
What horrified me most though, was when I looked down at the pedals. They had grown extremely small, or they were too far below and my legs had grown longer. I couldn't tell which one. Riding on the miniscule wheels of my new bike, I begun to lose my balance. My feet kept slipping off the pedals, and like a mad man, I kept flailing by legs in the air. Every time the bike would tilt, I'd hold my breath and stiffen my body. I would shake my knees like a bird in a desperate attempt to avoid karma's unforgiving backhand. To avoid the fall.
I have managed to keep my balance so far. But with every successful attempt, the next save is even harder. The wheels are squeaking like they're about to break and the handles are crumbling in my hands. It's the bike. I know it. It wants me off.
The chasm is still there, a few inches away from my bicycle's front wheel. There is nothing to wait for anymore. Nothing, except the singular eventuality of the terrible fall. Maybe I'll meet the little girl down there. I'll apologize then.