A young girl spent her summer days at the shore, walking on the beach, getting taffy on the boardwalk, riding her bike. And did she ever love to ride her bike. All of the shop owners on Front Street waved at her as she rode by on her way to the ball park to play with her friends. Each day seemed to last forever, and the days and weeks became a seeming lifetime in itself. Until, all of a sudden, it was time to go back to school, and the bicycle was put up for the winter, silently waiting for its rider to return.
And return she did, summer after summer after summer. The joy in her eyes when she was finally given permission to ride over to Rehoboth Beach, where the action was. All of the arcades and shops and food and ... boys. After a while, it seemed the tires on the bicycle needed air more often. Then, suddenly, she was driving a car, and life was now moving too fast for a bicycle to handle.
The girl was in college now, and weeks of summer break were spent working her job at the Atlantic Bookstore on Rehoboth Avenue. There was little time for leisure, and the bike just didn't fit in to her fun loving lifestyle. Until one day, she laid the bike against some bushes and left.
Somewhere, maybe in Baltimore, or perhaps Philadelphia, a woman is raising a family, working day in and day out, never able to put together the time to take that vacation to the shore that she's promised herself since that promotion. She gazes forlornly at the traffic on the Schuylkill Expressway, silently wishing she were nine years old again, riding her favorite bike. And a bicycle remains propped up against a bush in Lewes, faithfully waiting for a rider, any rider, to make good use of it.
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