opening the door. I felt along the wall for a light switch and breathed a sigh of relief when I found it. Back then, the basement had been dusty and mostly full of boxes. I overlooked most of them, I was young and didn’t know what I was looking for. I didn’t care to snoop through old photo albums and cards from relatives that had been gone longer than I had been alive. Now, I wish I had taken more time to go through those boxes. Most of them are tucked away in my parent’s bedroom or relocated to my grandparents’ current home in the next town over. The mystery of their contents will be solved another day. 

When I was thirteen I was fascinated by the dusty bike that became mine when I turned seventeen. At the age of thirteen, the bike was far too tall...

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