The broken down bike leans like an umbrella against the door.

Delicate woven threads of spiders hang down from it giving it a glistening aura.

The shrivelled up seat waits for that one day to be sat upon again.

A black leather belt surrounds it strapping it like an anaconda to its prey.

The rust covered wheels squeak like mice ready to feast.

The chains are like the resemblance of the wealth  of a king.