Short Story by Travis Warner

One Night In L.A.

They spoke in foreign tongue as we drove into the night. I was tied
up like the others of my kind in the back of a grey-white van. One
grim-faced and tired looking man sat watch with us. I didn’t know
where I was going and I wasn’t quite sure from where I’d come but I

knew they didn’t want me dead. My best guess was they were only
trying to cover up the trail.

Of a sudden the doors jerked open and I was thrown recklessly from
the vehicle into the early morning. The impact tore at my fibers
leaving me damaged and motionless. It was something I hadn’t
experienced before. I had only heard the stories which seemed to
lilt through the corridors like folklore passed down through
generations. I lay there motionless.

The sky grew light as I lay.

Some hours passed--how many I didn’t know. Slowly the birds began
to chirp, lending hope to my apathy. I was drifting in and out, in
and out, and then, finally, out.



He was staring blankly down at me. No words left his lips. There
was only the soft beating of the lawn sprinklers as they passed back
and forth across his pajamas. By now his coffee was cold but he
didn’t seem to mind. He didn’t seem to notice. All he could do
was
stare.

He seemed unmoved by the story told on my disheveled face. The
blankness consumed him and then me. He seemed to stare back without
sympathy. A hint of boredom and disinterest seemed to flicker across
his face a moment but that was it. Emotionless.

I began to question the humanity of Man. How uncaring and unmoved
he was in the face of tragedy. How unsympathetic he was to the
horrors before him. Murder. Rape. Chaos. Death. These were the
things of which man was made. Not kindness or brotherhood. The
society had been stripped of him. The world had become a
conglomerate of “I”s. There was no unity, no shoulder to shoulder

effort to keep a man sane. No effort to better himself or others.

Here I was the face of tragedy and need lying at the feet of a man
with the power to listen. And yet I seemed to stare back with more
wonder than he. His face changed from boredom to annoyance at the
sight of me. I was but a routine problem in his busy life. He had
better things to do than listen to my story. I didn’t dare break my

stare. My only hope was to penetrate into the depths of this mans
heart and perhaps evoke some semblance of philanthropy.

It seemed a lifetime of silence before the man finally bent down and
grasped me in his hands. He turned and carried me out of the
blinding sun and into the warmth of his home.

“Deloris! Didn’t I tell you to cancel our fucking subscription to

the L.A. Times?! You know I hate the crap they print! Nothing but
bad news and more bad news!”

I was thrown recklessly into the eternal silence of a nearby
wastebasket never to be heard from again.

Stupid Rain!

Just when I finally get into gear and start actually riding my bike, I get foiled by the rain. How am I ever going to get fast enough to race as an expert this season if I've wasted away half of the winter training season slacking off, and now when I get serious about it, the weather has other plans for me? Damn, Davis, how do you DO it?!?!?!

Storm the Beach

Here's a quick post:
It was slow and sandy, lots of off-the-bike trudging, but I still got 2nd. Racing is fun! :)

Bakersfield Race

Well, now that Lyle mentioned my blog on his, I'd better update. The racing in Bakersfield this weekend was really fun! I got to hang out with pretty much the whole Team Bearclaw.
(I know, I know, ladies, you're jealous, but try to keep your fainting to a minimum.)

(This one's my favorite Bearclaw:)

Watching the pro women's race was awesome! Carolyn Popovic made winning by minutes look so easy! She put on quite an impressive show in the last two laps, pulling ahead of Coryn in the beginning of the 2nd to last lap and steadily increasing the gap until she was 1-2 minutes ahead as she crossed the finish line. Wow! (By the way, for any of you who don't know it, Carolyn is the nicest racer on the circuit.)

The Elite men's race was pretty fun to watch too. I got the dollars flowing out to the racers at Sunday's race.I can't think of a better way to spend a few bucks. Us spectators should do that more often in our local races!

In my race I got 3rd. It was fun! The girls ahead of me easily dropped me but I was able to hold off the girl behind who was hot on my heels for the whole race.

I officially started a daily bicycle commute to work last week. Luckily the weather has been strangely hot so riding at 6:30 in the morning and again at 6:30 at night has been so far, bearable. Hopefully I will have the discipline to keep it up since it will be my only form of winter training. And I'm definitely late in starting that up. It's 2 hours each way so maybe that'll be enough to get me up into the Expert category for the mountain bike season next summer. :)

Thanksgiving

I forgot to put this up last week. This is kinda like what my Thanksgiving was like. I got to see my dog, ride horses and hang out with friends.

Dog Sitting!!!

Send 'em my way...I can't resist!

The men in underwear, I mean, not the puppies. (hah hah)

In other news, I had fun "photographizing" today. No racing for me this weekend.

Whirlwind

That's what Sunday's race was for me. I wasn't going to race because I was going to be working all day. But then, as a fluke, I didn't have anything to do at work for a few hours. It was perfect timing. I had just enought time to race home, grab my bike, drive the 30 minutes to the race, get my number pinned on and turn the pedals for a few minutes before my start. (Thanks to Jesse and John for getting me going!)

Then there was the race:

As soon as I finished my last lap of the race, I got back in my car, stopped at a friend's house for a shower on the way back to work, and was at work 3 hours after I left.

I didn't even know how I placed.

I've asked myself several times why I did it. There's no prize money in my catagory. I'm not in contention for series leader. The actual fact of pushing your body that hard for 40 minutes of strenuous work is just painful. I really had absolutely nothing to gain from it. So what the hell? Are we bike racers just a little bit crazy? Anyone? Bueller?