his first bike run was along the highway near our place (this is not his first time to ride a bike. he learned how to about three years ago then forgot all about it). he came home with a badly abraded ankle and knee and a grin that reached his temples. the second run was a secret until he arrived home, filthy, recounting his ride from our house, to san jose, then baliwasan, then camins, then sta. maria, then back home to san roque. the third time, just this weekend, he went to boulevard! by himself! alone! solo! without a companion!
something has finally captivated him as passionately as reading has.
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