Worst Walk

Well, well, said Pliny the Elder. I've been invited to write an article for Velosophy.

What! I said. Have you? But you don't know anything about bicycles.

That does not seem to matter, said Pliny grandly. My reputation as a natural historian is sufficient to recommend me.

Well done then, I said. And congratulations. But you do know, don't you, that it will have to have bicycles in it. Or at least one bicycle. And I remember you telling me there weren't any bicycles in ancient Rome.

Yes, but there are bicycles everywhere nowadays, said Pliny. In fact they seem to be proliferating like flies. Have you noticed that where there used to be one chained up to a post every night on the corner of Dover Street and Portrush Road, now there are two?

I have noticed, I said. I can't imagine what circumstances could have resulted in that. Can you?

No, said Pliny. But I intend to investigate further. I shall go out tonight for a walk and observe what happens on Dover Street.

Good luck, I said. You will have to be there at exactly the right moment or you won't be any the wiser.

Perhaps I might enlist your aid then, said Pliny. You always go for an evening stroll.

Certainly. I shall keep my eyes open tonight, I said helpfully. Unless of course tonight is like last night.

Why, what happened last night?

I walked home very fast with my eyes covered.

My, that does sound dangerous. Why on earth was that?

The worst walk ever, I replied. Thunder and lightning; the sky was black and fluoro pink. A massive wind got up and the air was filled with dust. We hurried home to avoid being killed by falling branches.

Falling branches? Pliny looked alarmed.

Perhaps I'll postpone my investigations for a day or two, he said.