“Yo, dude on the bike…”

What a beautiful, bright, crisp morning. The frost had white-tipped the grass and rooftops were already steaming and as I approached work a youthful, vigorous voice came to me from the bushes south of the Access Event Centre and shouted at me:

“Yo! Dude on the bike! FUCK YOU!”

Of course I had to make the obligatory, though half-hearted adult meander toward the offending voice (so unlike what Moses likely heard from his bush) upon which two middle school boys rocketed out of their hiding spot and raced away at speeds I am sure they had yet to achieve in life.

All in all a fun start to the day that brought back memories of my childhood and racing away from various adults and police with my heart pounding in my throat. Good times.

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