Standing in the corner, caked with dust, my bicycle longs to feel the road beneath her tires. But I’ve got better things to do, like channel surfing and napping. “Please, take me for a ride,” she beckons. I don’t listen. Cold, callous, uncaring, I walk past her, eyes averted so as not to make contact. But, alas, I am drawn to her. I reach for her handlebars and gently ease her toward the door. As we step outside, the sunshine blinds us both momentarily, but the excitement is there in those first seconds when I tilt her slightly, step on her pedal and take my place. It is familiar, comfortable, thrilling. We ride off, the wind urging us along, freedom surrounding us.