It is early saturday, and Andy rockets down Frederick Road like a rogue bullet, abandoning the pedals; the silver streak of the bicycle slicing through the fall air down this rugged slope, crunching the brown leaves beneath the skinny tires. Autumn has wrapped itself around the town of Catonsville, and hangs like loose fitting scarf, blowing about now in the quiet cold of morning. Somewhere amongst the pungent exhaust of diesel fuel from the passing trucks, Andy smells the promising aroma of a good day.
Posted on: Sat, 26 Oct 2013 14:38:47 +0000