Short Story: The View from the Bicycle Parking Lot

Again today, from the morning,
many bicycles are lined up.

Students.
Homemakers.
Office workers.
An elderly person with a cane.

Someone who looks a bit unwell.

Someone with a somewhat melancholy expression.

Someone heading to a new job starting today.

Someone going shopping in the next town over.

To the big station,
someone going to have tea with a friend.

Each and every bicycle
has a different destination.

But,
what they are truly carrying
might be each person's life.

There are days of joy,
and days when you want to cry.

There are days you ride with hope in your heart,
and days you pedal while sighing.

The bicycle parking lot
quietly sees off such days.

When evening comes,
with a slightly different expression than in the morning,
everyone returns.

People with smiles.

People who are exhausted.

People dangling shopping bags.

They must be on their way home from work.

Seeing them with slumped shoulders,
walking with a slightly heavy gait,
"Good work today," I find myself saying.
I whisper those words in my heart.

Everyone,
is doing their best in their own place.

Perhaps that is why,

their steps are quick as they hurry home.

Surely, waiting for them there,
is a "Welcome home."

Today, too, the bicycle parking lot
quietly watches over
someone's beginning and end.