I woke this morning at 5:20, got dressed, and went outside for my morningworkout. Today’s weather was beautiful, perfect temperature, and the smell offresh rain. Lately I’ve been riding my bike, a Schwinn that is neither strongenough to be a mountain bike, nor sleek enough to be a road bike. I would callit a “small town bike”, as it gets me around all four corners of our smalltown.

I rode down the street, fast down the slight decline, feeling the wind on mycheeks, blowing the last of the sleep from my mind. I slowed down a littlegoing up a slight incline, starting the muscles in my legs working for the day.Across the highway, down a few cross roads, until I came to the city park,my favorite part of the ride. The park has a small pond with a path around itand a bridge over it. Sometimes I see frogs jump into the pond, and twice nowI’ve seen a large bird I believe to be a stork on the far side of the pond.

As I rode around the pond I was distracted by something in the path, somethingfairly large. Large enough that I was sure it was not supposed to be here. Thiswas unusual. As I rode closer I saw that it was a blanket. My first thought was“why would someone leave a blanket out here”. As I rode closer I began to thinkthat it was shaped oddly like a man.

My thoughts raced back to New Mexico, where I found a man, drunk, lying in thestreet. He was unconscious, and looked as if he had fallen face-first into abusy city street off the curb at a bus stop. His companions at the bus stopsimply looked at him, and continued to wait for the bus. I was driving by onthe way to work, but stopped to help.

Gliding by the oddly man shaped blanket I glanced down at it and thought Icaught a glimpse of skin under the blanket. I stopped my bike, got off a fewfeet past it, and could see a bare foot uncovered. I started to feel anxious.There was someone there. I took a small step towards the blanket, thinkingabout what I would do if it were a homeless man sleeping. I had decided to stepup to the blanket and ask if whoever was inside needed help. If it were a hobo,he’d probably say no and yell at me to leave him alone. I did not want to getyelled at, but I also did not want to leave someone if they needed help.

I looked again at the foot, and something about it struck me as odd. Even ahobo would probably have shoes, and this foot looked oddly clean, well kept,and small. A horrible thought ran through my head, something worthy of theopening scene from a prime time crime drama on TV. All of these thoughts racedthrough my head in the course of a few seconds as I took another step towardsthe blanket. Then, the blanket was thrown back, and a voice greeted me.

“What’s up? Did you think we were dead?”

Of course. Under the blanket were a pair of teenagers. A boy with a bright,fake diamond earring, and a girl with pink hair. I have a feeling I know whatthey were up to under there.

“Wasn’t sure.”

I replied.

“Naw, just chilling.”

Said the boy.

The girl giggled. Feeling slightly embarrassed at interrupting their ill placedchilling, I looked at the pond, then looked at the sky, then said:

“Nice place.”

Then got back on my bike and continued on the path.

Another mile down the road I saw two rabbits.