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Simon's Shorts

Short Stories to Pass the Time

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Sporting Rides

24 Hours

In the darkness he can just make out his forearms; flat, bare and relaxed on the bars and glistening with sweat; a powerful white light spears through the cables from beneath spreading its lumens across the smooth Shropshire tarmac; 14 hours in and 10 more to go. READ MORE

The Black Train

On the 2nd Sunday of July 2016 at the mountain resort town of Morzine in the French Alps I witnessed an event that could only be described as a miracle. A small band of men bound only by their loyalty to each other and their adherence to the cycling code, planned and executed the perfect bike race; READ MORE

Out The Back Door

I always know when it’s happened. I don’t have any strange sixth sense or anything like that; there are a couple of signs that tell me that all is not right. I first feel it when the back door latch lifts – the small hesitation of movement as the door opens because he’s resting on the handle. READ MORE

Stage Revolution

Being bicycles, we’re more than familiar with revolutions; our wheels complete them every time we move. We’ve even been known to forcibly overthrow riders when things weren’t going well – yes we can crash when we want to, you know.  But discontent bringing us to change the way our sport was  governed, was never discussed – until last years Tour de France, that is. READ MORE

 

Superseded

 

Superseded

3rd October 2010

It’s been three weeks now. This isn’t easy; I still don’t understand why I am still here or what I did wrong.

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Tube Love

I have been blessed; I have been loved by two people. In the thirty seven years since I was built by Mike – I was frame number 212 – there have been only six months that I wasn’t loved   READ MORE

Faithfully Yours

“So what’s the deal then love?”

“What do you mean?”

“Come on – you’re not exactly like the rest of us, are you.” I was being a bit harsh but the machine hung next to me in the shed did look particularly odd.

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Time Traveller

I felt the hand tighten on my seat post as Mike carefully clipped into his pedals. He always gets tense now and never speaks to timekeepers; he just focuses ahead as our minute man disappears up the road.

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