The old bicycle leaned against the rusted fence, its once-shiny blue paint now faded and chipped. It had been years since anyone had taken it for a ride.
Jake found it in his grandfather’s garage while cleaning out the house. The tires were flat, the chain was stiff with rust, but something about it called to him. With a little oil, air in the tires, and a tightened bolt or two, the bike was ready to roll again.
