Cycling home

On Friday night I cycled home from the pub; three miles or so of sub-zero dancing in the dark.When the mood is right, cycling must be the closest man get get to flying, pushing through air under one's own power, jinking and weaving to avoid the death that waits in blind cars.

When I cycle through traffic, I feel all my senses come alert, I take signals from all around, I am scared but in control, alive.