I got up adjusted my silk dress and hung the shawl back over my shoulders it was a magical sound which pulled me in ,i had to see who was playing with...such intensity,Iturned a slight corner and there in the distance i could see his sillouetthe midnight temperature meant his breath was visible as he drew in the air.I stood still looking ,hoping i wasnt spotted,affraid that he would stop playing ,i leant against the stone cold wall and closed my eyes,imagining what the beautiful tune meant to. He was a member of the cycling club I joined. He was 19. I looked up to him because he'd competed in local races ...and done OK. And he was great with new members. Encouraging them, organizing training, helping to tune bikes, etc. I suppose I started to hero-worship him. I'd hang around and watch whatever he did and try to copy him. I went out and got a proper cycling kit because of him. Tight spandex. It did nothing to disguise your junk, that's for sure. I'd noticed and maybe even admired how. More

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