Prison On The: Saddle -final- -shimizuan-

Not because I’d finished the ride. Because I’d stopped trying to escape it.

I dropped my bike against a post—didn’t even lock it. If someone wanted to steal it, they’d be doing me a favor for exactly four seconds, until they tried the first pedal stroke. Prison on the Saddle -Final- -Shimizuan-

I sat. I drank. I ate.

Not a mean laugh. A knowing one.

She pointed up the hill and said something in a dialect I couldn’t fully catch. But I caught the last word: Shimizuan. Then she made a drinking motion with her gnarled hand. Tea. Rest. Not because I’d finished the ride

Today was the final stage.

Prison on the Saddle (Final) – Shimizuan Prison on the Saddle -Final- -Shimizuan-