I had two bicycle visions this morning on Old Street in London. Walking East, my path was crossed by a woman wearing a tied up skirt as she pedalled her bicycle toward me. On her face was a ventilator mask.
100 feet further, where Goswell Road meets Old Street, I came across a bicycle painted white, and chained to a light post. Attached to the bicycle was a small sign reading, “Remember me.”
It was a ghost bike, a memorial to a bicyclist who had been killed in a collision with an automobile, a sacrifice to the greedy petroleum spirits that rule our world.
