take a trip

she drifts by, as transcient as the wind, feeling as flighty as air as she rides on.
at the junction where many cars pass, she pauses to give them the right of way, then swerves into the concrete pavement so as to prevent getting into their way. she underestimates when to swing the handlebars and ends up hitting the pavement hard, almost falling down. unperturbed, she adjusts herself and ignores the stares from the cab-drivers, the motorcyclists, those riders of the road, those.
she passes by the school where she used to teach last summer, and as far as she can see, there is a red nissan parked in the parking lot. she can't remember who it belongs to. the field, normallly full of screaming children languishes in weeds and yellowed droopy flowers, drips of snow hidden deep within the hardened nectar.
the once bumpy downhill slope that she always had to get off and walk her bike through had been concreticized. the bump that she always had to slow down at was no longer there, made flat, tunneled flat.