I was ten when the shiny red bicycle in the shop window claimed me. I was obsessed with it. Every day I would check on the bike, hoping they hadn't taken it away from me, like it was the last bike on earth. But my dad wouldn't buy it for me. I couldn't have everything I wanted and I had to learn that early, was his answer to my persistent whimpering. And one day it was gone.
I am a little older than 10 now and I can buy many shiny red bikes but I have no use for them and they have no use for me. The little red bike refuses to set me free.
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