You See Me, I See You

Jeff!!!! Veronica calls out from across the street. She's going 20 kilometres an hour, easy. He's going 30, opposite direction. It could be Jeff. Sure looks like him. Full kit, shaggy hair, out of the saddle, clipped in and clocking her from two blocks away. Veronica considers herself a commuter cyclist. She rides a fancy ass road bike but she doesn't ride-ride. You know, like in a peleton or with a club; or for 5 hours on a Sunday morning or all of Tuesday afternoon while skipping out of the office to "work from home". Jeff's a Rider, a true Roadie. Quit triathalons to focus on the bike. Hence why she doesn't sees him anymore. It must have been Jeff. Who else would hone in on her from so far away? He recognizes her, knows her style. He should, she's the reason he rides. He built this bike, bought the frame for her 36th birthday and then helped her design it's entire configuration from Campy's vs Shimanos, fixie or flip flop. The spent hours arguing the difference between tubeless and tubes. At one point he tried to convince her to buy a custom built wheel set then she realized he was using her to satisfy his own addiction to building bikes. At that point he already had 8 so really, she was an easy outlet. Veronica sure loved the way it made her feel. Flying at breakneck speeds through traffic in stasis, ripping into corners testing her own limits as to how far a drop she could tolerate before wiping out. The last accident gave her pause. Her hip took 6 months to regain it's normal shape after the swelling subsided and her hand will never be model-worthy now. Still, every time she rides she thinks of him. Maybe it's an appartition. A ghost rider of her imagination, dancing on his pedals. His new wife hates the sport, won't even get on a bike let alone watch him race. Veronica still rages quietly with that one. She always promised him she'd drive the sag car, any race, any time, be his personal soigneur, one with the team. Maybe he couldn't stand the competition, she doesn't know. The best part of the end of it all is still her love of riding. When she can't get quiet the noise in her head, she rages quietly on her bike.

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