How Stephen King Learns to Ride a Bike

Written for 7/1 Flash Fiction Contest
Theme: learning how to ride a bke
Word Count: 300

How Stephen King Learns to Ride a Bike
MysteryBox42

Annie was down. The beam from her flashlight convulsed at a pavement-level perspective. And that THING… It had already begun to… I could hear ripping and crunching sounds and Annie screaming wildly. I flew through the air like a rocket and fell with all the grace of the Challenger. My face was streaked with tears, my arms bruises, and now two shinned knees to add to my collection of agony.

Annie’s bike glided effortlessly forward. I had been riding in the front handlebar basket, for I was small and much younger. Annie had been peddling. With an ear-piercing snap I could hear flesh disconnect from flesh behind me. Red eyes, their hunger quenched, turned their attention towards me.

I pounced to my feet and snatched up the bike. I hesitated to sit on top of the duck bill shaped seat. The bike was bright pink. That’s not why I hesitated. I had never ridden a bike before in my life.

A sound like something large slithering across the pavement filled my ears. The pavement was all downhill. The road disappeared into darkness. The darkness of continuing depth. It could have gone on forever. Without thinking, I perched myself upright on the bike and cast off.

I was moving so fast that the spokes created a machine gun roar, even without any added baseball cards for SFX. The peddles were circulating crazily. I slammed my feet down on them and caught a groove. Then pinched the breaks. I was doing it! I was riding a bike!

“Big whoop, Stevie, so you can finally ride a bike.” Annie said.

I snapped out of my daydream. I was jetting down our front-drive in daylight, Annie, my babysitter, supervising.

She was impressed but wouldn’t show it.

“I just needed some motivation.” I grinned.