Outside, in the middle of nowhere, there was thunder and lightening battling across the sky. Inside, the mysterious house was a mysterious figure, that passed the window. Bella Rose shivered as her teeth chattered whilst she froze. Fog drifted silently through the night. The abandoned house creaked, “you will not be safe here!” But safety was what she was looking for.
The Historical Bike by Eloise @Belmont
The historical bike leans against the silver birch tree.
The handlebars are like a boomerang,
drifting off,
across the rest of the world.
The wheels are a mirror into the past.
Spokes,
as thin as a worn t-shirt,
hoping to be worn again.
Cogs ticking like a grandfather clock.
A careless chain crying.
The saddle is perched, never to be touched again.
The historical bike leans against he silver birch tree.
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