I’d looked at myself in the mirror and asked the question out loud, “You’re not going to do it again, are you?” “No,” the mirror image had shook, guiltily. Chances are not. The mirror image was no longer going to take that racing bike out of the attic this spring. Again not. Again that pardoning ‘maybe next year’. That self-blame again.
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Tired, gray and stripped of the last bit of decorum – but safe in your own garden | column Wieberen Elverdink
