They told me that once I learned I would never forget.

Never forget the rush of gaining speed, feeling the wind run far away from my fearless self. I would never forget the pedals chasing one another, like children in a crowded playground with enough energy to run to the moon. I was terrified, you see, because the grass carpet seemed to be calling my name. “You are going to fall,” it whispered. “Fall, fall, fall.” It didn’t seem possible, to float through the air balanced on just a pair of fragile wheels, to become the machine, to do the impossible, but i couldn’t let the grass win. I couldn’t allow myself to forget what i had never learned. “Fall,” it was shouting now. “Fall!” But I could not. I felt the wind engulf me and let go, admitting defeat. I let the grass flatten beneath the brave wheels I once thought could not transport a fly. The pedals had found their speed, and darted after one another. And i felt my brain unlock a world with endless opportunity. “You conquered the fall,” it said.

I’ll never forget it.