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The bicycle by Nadia

The bike leans, against the elderly, oak tree, stand on  the lush of earths grass.

The handlebars poke out like a rhinos horn but duplicated into two,

The saddle is as ting and low to the ground like a rabbit jumping and searching for food in any time of day.

The chain is as strong as a thick stick on a tree dangling in the cold breeze of the air.

 

 

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