J
John Morgan
Guest
A year ago last May, my GT Zaskar was stolen from school and brought my world crashing down around
my ears. (http://makeashorterlink.com/?M1EC22DF4)
Today, as I was driving to work, I saw the thief (or someone he pawned it to) riding my bike on the
sidewalk! I was shocked! I was in the far lane and was unable to run him over with my car, so I
quickly pulled off to a side street. Hindsight dictates that I should have calmly walked up to the
perpetrator and then sprung my surprise attack, but I was in a blind rage. (Any of you who have had
a prized bike stolen know these feelings run deep). Instead, I was determined to catch him on foot
so I started running at him full speed. When I was about 15 feet away he heard my footsteps and
looked back over his shoulder. At first he seemed bewildered. Then a wave of recognition washed over
his face and he took off pedaling. I never got closer than about 7 feet. He rode down an alleyway
and behind an apartment complex. Only then did he look back and smirk with satisfaction from his
escape, now 30 feet away.
I uttered a long string of curses and shook my fist at the sky. I was a fool for not thinking it
through, but there will be another day. He will slip up again and then he will be mine. There will
be beatings. Harsh and relentless beatings to the scum of society.
Next time I will be ready.
-John Morgan
my ears. (http://makeashorterlink.com/?M1EC22DF4)
Today, as I was driving to work, I saw the thief (or someone he pawned it to) riding my bike on the
sidewalk! I was shocked! I was in the far lane and was unable to run him over with my car, so I
quickly pulled off to a side street. Hindsight dictates that I should have calmly walked up to the
perpetrator and then sprung my surprise attack, but I was in a blind rage. (Any of you who have had
a prized bike stolen know these feelings run deep). Instead, I was determined to catch him on foot
so I started running at him full speed. When I was about 15 feet away he heard my footsteps and
looked back over his shoulder. At first he seemed bewildered. Then a wave of recognition washed over
his face and he took off pedaling. I never got closer than about 7 feet. He rode down an alleyway
and behind an apartment complex. Only then did he look back and smirk with satisfaction from his
escape, now 30 feet away.
I uttered a long string of curses and shook my fist at the sky. I was a fool for not thinking it
through, but there will be another day. He will slip up again and then he will be mine. There will
be beatings. Harsh and relentless beatings to the scum of society.
Next time I will be ready.
-John Morgan