Great. Yet another bike of mine was stolen this morning. Yes—this morning. As in while I was in the computer room, putting on my shoes a mere 10 feet away from the side porch where the bike was locked up! I ran to the kitchen and through the window I noticed the bike missing. So I bolted out the door and into the street where I saw no signs of life except for a drooling dog across the street. I wish I had been in a novel chockfull of magical realism I know that self-pity is bad for my complexion, so I choose to have pity on the thieves. It’s a shame that life has pushed them into such a corner that they must resort to the pilfering another’s ride to work. I also enjoy fictionalizing the account: The bike thief was actually me from the future, coming back to keep “us” from getting into a posture-altering wreck.