You use 40 percent less energy in the peloton. A life spent in the service of others, dragging them up mountains, ferrying them down the other side. And now here he is, grandson on knee, with nothing but memories of the wheel in front from Col de Peyresourde, the Champs Elysees, Dordogne and Grand Colombier. He stayed on the wheel, and they stayed on his. He might have veered left, into the headwind, risked it all for one, just one, moment of glory, but he kept his head down, was a loyal servant. He has regrets, it’s fair to say.
Come for the flash fiction and short stories. Stay for the sense of wonder at deriving meaning from weird symbols on a screen