Fiction, Health and wellbeing, Melbourne, Writing

Ride to Somewhere

It had been years since I’d last hopped on the bike; I wasn’t even sure it was still in the shed. I rushed in to find it; rummaged through the junk: boxes of old clothes, books, broken appliances, tools and a chest. There! Behind the chest.

I pulled the bicycle out, wiped off the cobwebs, gave the tyres some air with the bike pump that was, mercifully, stored alongside the bike itself. I cycled off without even closing the shed door.

I headed past the library and the town hall. Whizzed downhill alongside the mammoth shopping centre, with the car park already chock-full of cars. With my head lowered, I pushed on when trucks and cars tooted their horn at the audacity of a cyclist on the highway.

Finally, when my legs were screaming for a break, I reached the pond on the outskirts of the city, where the suburbs were littered with tumbleweed, beer cans and used needles, the homes run-down and tired.

This was the place. Somewhere near the pond.

You’re crazy for agreeing to this.

I ignored my inner virtuous self and parked the bike next to a tree. Sitting at the edge of the pond, I took off my shoes and socks to dip my feet in the clear blue water. Before long, footsteps approached from behind me.

‘I’m so glad you made it.’ Deep baritone. Male, definitely.

‘Me too,’ I said, twisting to look behind me.

‘Don’t move. You mustn’t be able to identify me.’ Gravelly, gruff, threatening. Different voice? I couldn’t quite tell.

I drew breath. My heart pumped hard inside my chest, but was it fear or excitement?

Thwack! The sound of a parcel hitting the ground made me jump.

‘Your delivery. Instructions will be sent to this phone. Destroy it once you’ve memorised the details. Payment will be arranged if the mission is successful.’

I listened as the footsteps faded to silence. Only one set. One person, then, not two.

After I put on my shoes and socks, I stood. My legs wobbled like jelly; I must have looked like a novice surfer, trying to catch a first wave. I stumbled on my way to the bike.

The phone pinged. I read the message and, with a groan, mounted the bike to begin the next leg of my journey. My entire body tingled: fear, nerves, nausea, and a sense of importance mixed inside me. A heady cocktail that, if went unchecked, might mean this was the last mission I ever did.

I pushed on. Determined.

Photo by Fachy Marín on Unsplash

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14 thoughts on “Ride to Somewhere”

  1. I am late peddling along Linda. I hope there isn’t a flat tyre to mess up the mission or a problem with the package. Would love to read another episode. I must think of a prompt for Ragtag so I may get more 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

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