The bike leans on a old friend towering over him.

The saddle brown and battered like mud being thrown to a wall.

Next to it a bike lock slithers down the tree.

Moss clings on for dear life as it grows older.

A garden statue sits on top with its only friend.

The wheels stay in the same place every day with only the black rubber to keep him company.

A spider made himself at home with a giant web strewn across the bike.

A belt hung over the bike sad as can be.