Tonight, I went cycling by the river as usual.

The sky was overcast, and there weren’t many people on the road. I turned up the music and set my bike to the fastest gear. I rode halfway to the northern end when, to my surprise, the streetlights went out. Worried it might rain, I turned back.

At that moment, a delicate-looking boy appeared. Pointing south, he asked if I wanted to do another lap. My legs felt weak, but I switched to a more rhythmic heavy metal track and decided to follow him.

I pedaled at top speed, but the boy quickly disappeared from sight. I entered a dark, straight path, relying only on my bike’s light. The music turned into a frantic drum solo, and I pedaled faster.

Soon, the boy reappeared at the end of the path. Seeing me approach, he turned back too, quickly vanishing from view again. My legs were numb, but a vibrating electric guitar urged me to accelerate. Once more, I entered the dark path, and suddenly my bike light went out, and my headphones fell silent. The world was reduced to the muddy smell of trees quietly standing in the wind.

Looking up, I saw a single point of light appear in the misty sky, trailing a bright, hazy tail. At that moment, it seemed like a comet streaking through a mythical Nordic forest. The cold, silvery light slowly glided across the night sky, eventually hiding behind the trees.

My bike sped on, and I felt my legs grow light, my heartbeat almost imperceptible.

Amen.

(Image generated by AI.)