The old fashioned bicycle leant against a white wood birch tree as if it is waiting for something that will never come

The pedals brown with rust dangling down just above the ground covered in grass and weeds

The cold metal handlebars covered in dust, dirt not been held onto for 30 years

It’s only friend is a big, brown, hairy spider which had made its self at home in between its handlebars and its saddle

The chunky,chain clatters loudly as it rides down the wet path

The dark black wheels spin quickly burning rubber

The sound of the bell rings annoyingly like an alarm clock

The weeds green curled around the the bikes metal frame