The tire is low. The pump is by the door and the patch kit is in a bag. You prop the Hallway Bike against the wall next to the mail slots so it doesn’t tip while you work, kicking the stray takeout napkin that’s been wedged under the baseboard for three days out of your … Read more
You found one hole. You have not checked the tire for what caused it. You’re kneeling on the scuffed linoleum right outside your unit, bike propped against the cinderblock wall, and the faint smell of your neighbor’s leftover garlic pasta drifts through the hallway vent. The patch kit you dug out of your backpack is … Read more
The tube is out. You have not found where the air left. Your bucket of lukewarm soapy water sits on the scuffed linoleum hallway floor beside you, the travel-sized dish soap you keep under your sink still open next to its rim. You twist the small lock nut on the presta valve loose and press … Read more
You squeeze the tire in the hall. It gives more than it did yesterday. Your backpack slumps off one shoulder as you lean in, pressing harder with the pad of your thumb to confirm the give isn’t just a trick of the dim overhead hall light, which flickers every time the elevator down the hall … Read more
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