7 p.m. Happy to end my week. It's the end of the month and it's a routine to process something important before going home. Today's one of these few days. Left by colleagues alone in the building, I feel my own footsteps. I walk fast to the parking area. Most cars are gone. I can count the remaining ones. I proceed to the bike shed. My bike's one of the very few left. I unlock my bike. I mount it. I open the shed door with my chipped-badge. I cycle homeward.The street's empty. The sound of the wind is strong. The shower was so thin I can barely feel with the wind. The Vliet canal's quiet, no boat, no kayak girls and guys, no one. The team of fun-fishers camping along the canal during the entire week's gone too. No one, stillness, only nature and me and my bike.
The sky's darkening, I speed up to avoid stronger rain. Another street. The cars line the side of the street, everyone's home? Or everyone's away leaving the cars? No food smellfromhouses, no TV flashing views from the windows. No life. Still the wind blows. Warm from biking, cold from the wind. Mixed emotions.
The street's almost done. I have to cross and take another smaller street. Oh! Two souls! A father and a son on their respective bikes. Kiddie's too small. I think he's two. Dad's happy giving directions. They both have red sweaters. I bike past them. I have to cross the Sir Winston Churcillaan. Still quiet, a few cars while I cross. Calm. No heavy traffic. I am near home, still no one around biking. I could smell my dinner. Feeling warm. Feeling not alone. I arrive at my bike shed. I keep my bike, I run upstairs. Someone's there. Amore.
No more alone, no more mixed feelings. Only warmth and love. Summer in Rijswijk Netherlands, Friday evening.
