"Wave goodbye and bow," Winston said to himself as he anchored his worn-through-the-sole sneakers onto the bike pedal posts. He raced into the moonlight without a care forgetting the day, forgetting that it was night. He left his troubles outside his home in the dumpster. His only hope was that the garbage man would come as early in the morning as possible, so the stench would not waft back in through the bedroom windows desperately in need of proper molding. Out flew the drafty windows as the stars seemed to bounce rays light off of his sweat like a disco ball. Out with the madness of yesteryear and seething disappointment of, "Every fucking day." Winston pedaled faster. The posts of the pedals were all that remained of Winston's cheap bicycle, and in that moment he forgot that the bolts on the end were digging into the bottoms of his feet. Faster and faster through red light and green. He felt as though smoke trailed behind the bicycle like a turbo-charged drag racer intent on crashing through the continuum.
Winston's front tire pops loudly and sputters gently for an instant as Winston attempts to brace himself. The post cuts into Winston foot as the bike's momentum heaves Winston through the air. Flying through the air Winston embraces the escape and quickly crashes into the concrete. He curses loudly while rolling on the ground. Eventually, he stands up bleeding and kicks the bike.
He decides he would rather swim to the ocean anyway. Winston sets sail.