The Street Where You Live

I know the corner of Dayton Avenue North and North 45th Street, where I live, is one where people often leave things they no longer want. Today, seeing this bike still gave me a strong “baby shoes, never worn” vibe. Or maybe a kid parked their bike there without knowing it might disappear. 

I’m pretty sure, though that this scene is not the result of a tragedy or of an error that someone will soon regret. People do leave things there that they no longer want or need. The kid probably grew out of the bike, or didn’t want it anymore for whatever reason. 

But, maybe it belonged to the grandparents, the kid moved away and will never come over again to ride it. Seeing it in the mud room or the garage makes them sad. So, they get it out of the house.

It seems I can’t stray too far from explanations and interpretations that have some sense of loss or wistfulness attached. I wonder why that is. 

Maybe some parent has been looking for a bike exactly like this one. They will see this and shout, “Eureka!” and later, “Here’s a new bike, kiddo!”

It’s all open to interpretation, I guess, is the point.

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