NRRATIVE
My bicycle is a work of art or a torture device designed by Nazies. No one else ever has had a problem riding it except me. I can ride a bike, but sometimes the bike likes to play little tricks on me.
One day, I was riding all across scenic Collegeville. Uphills, downhills, through streams and most of all through neighborhoods. I have nothing against small little neighborhoods except for that evil, lurking, waiting being that live in each one. That hell sent creature is the leashless family dog.