Tyche
Copyright© 2020 by Old Man with a Pen
Chapter 38
Didn’t have a spot of trouble with the bus. We were the first ones on and there was an empty bike rack. Our Pentwater high school ID’s were sufficient for fares and the driver was reasonably informative. She suggested that we ride to the transit office and have Bus picture ID’s made ... free.
“We’ll do that after checking in at Admissions. Catch the bus here?”
“Across the street.”
“Thank you ... you’ve been very helpful.”
We retrieved our bikes and asked a guy.
Sure enough ... he walked us to the building. Form fitting Lycra bike shorts and tops will do that...
I may be fifteen ... but grandma’s ‘abundance’ has been passed down ... to say nothing of Surprise ... and Aunt Cynthiamae ... stacked ... they used to call it stacked ... and I’m tall for fifteen. Five feet seven inches. But wait ... there’s more... a sultry alto and the voice throbbed with unrequited lust and longing... that’s what Grandpa Jack said in his journals. I had that voice. Better than a good yodel.
Alice Olsen is no slouch either. 5.5 ... boobies for days and a sack of cats ass.
I’ve been riding my Kona Honzo ST Mountain Bike for years ... and my katas and sailing my Farr 3.7. And I run. And a pick up game of soccer on Saturdays. But one thing for sure ... these fat beach tires and wheels gotta go. I need road wheels.
But not tires ... cross training tires. Austin streets aren’t all that great.
The admiring young man deposited us at the Admissions office.
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