My bike got stolen on Sunday. I am very annoyed!! &%(&#(# who stole it...if I ever find someone stealing a bike, I will thrash and flog him till he begins to hate the very sight of a cycle.
Like Henry Higgins,"I'm a very gentle man,
even tempered and good natured who you never hear complain,
Who has the milk of human kindness by the quart in every vein,
A patient man am I, down to my fingertips,
the sort who never could, ever would,
let an insulting remark escape his lips"
But, let someone steal my bike and everything changes!! I feel lost, crippled, handicapped, empty without my modern steed. Now, you might not understand these sentiments and I can understand that. I grow attached to my things, the older they are the stronger the bond. This was my first ever possession in Oxford. I spent a whole day looking, searching and finally succeeding in finding the right cycle for myself.
The little one will tell you how excited I was after I bought this bike, chattering away, extolling its virtues to anyone who was within hearing distance. And now, some stranger, some random dude walks away with my bike in the middle of the night. Shameless, could you not have just asked me for it.
I think this is the worst of crimes. Like Louis L'amour wrote, "in the west the worst crime was to steal a man's horse for you were sure to kill him especially in the Mojave desert". I feel exactly the same now. I am paralysed. Today I had to take a bus to work and I almost cried...
When we two parted In silence and tears,
Half broken hearted
To sever for years,
Pale grew thy cheek and cold,
Colder thy kiss;
Truly that hour foretold
Sorrow to this
- Lord Bryon
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