The Bicycle's Testimony
I was manufactured in Nottingham, England, in the spring of 1954, in a factory that smelled of oil and hot rubber and the particular sweat of men who worked twelve-hour shifts. I was assembled by hands I never saw and packed in a crate I never chose and shipped across the Atlantic in the hold of a freighter that rolled and pitched and made my chains rattle in the dark. I arrived in America in...
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