1 minute read
David Allen Sullivan
Next Article
Long Way from My Home by David Allen Sullivan
Must have been the river that got me lost, and something on the railroad track I cut across that punctured my bike’s front tire, so by the time the stranger mapped where I was on his phone app our apartment was miles off.
Advertisement
Made myself push the bike, but its wheel-light throbbed only when its gear rubbed against the flat flop of the front tire as it groaned through each forced rotation — dark rising from factories, chattering workers pedaling past.