There is something funny about stationary bikes. I sit on a stool and move my legs in circles for 45 mins. sometimes my legs burn and sweat drops into my closed eyes, frantically imagining the movement of wind through my hair, frantically trying to believe that eventually all this moving will get me somewhere.

Sometimes I pedal slowly, dully, hardly realizing what I’m doing at all; simply passing the time between this eternal dulldrom and the next.

Sometimes I just sit watching the other people around me. Those girls laughing an chatting tho other girl gasping, as red as tomatoes in the summer. And then the time runs out, and my legs wobble as they readjust to real motion, unwilling to admit that last 45 mins got me no where, that I’m in the same place I started.