Royal gift ride

Mardi 15 octobre 20h30 : free down hill…
Well stretched after a lunch-snack ended by a sugar « tip » sachet, the roughest legs I ever roll on the new Sussex becomes balanced, flexing on back to front. My head shakes, looking at my way. Devonshire bus stop, cars, bicyclers, walkers, scooters, women, Freaks on St James street steep, are engaging my usual alternative break with a rounding unsatisfaction from french presidency lies, patience and action don’t wait I’m alive : The emotion-mission and my pleasure-sure is the same, my thinkings and the action got this aim. Slowly descending I start Ok, leaving droves vehicules priority, warming body, wearing grey-clear open neck shirt and my knees Levi’s used-holes open, my secured sash gained clothes ; wristles pad, as minimum. Victoria’s fountain and park crossing on the hard flat road, I found imperials autobuses to the hill bottom, people and lights, activity tracker setted, straight to Dyke Road Street, with my cinematic arms after, and moving throw the front road leftside : I got to unconsciously warning myself of the taxi noise from my back, wheel-direction manner changed from France, rendering the street of course… Arrived at the flat part, introducing my descent from this small hill for serious holding of my cherokee breath, involving skills I’ve been training within some FSK sustainability.
Few drivers, dark insides, I should be myself, struggle-verb, rolling it, strong I’m fine… Wet leaf on side walkway, highly slept and danger visible around… Finest sport alley, on the thin space… to roll away… Zip ! Reaching beside few symetric perfect short-slides… Up-down-trash-pick and deliveroo bikes, pleasure of freedom, attention of fleetings from my own, racing my best on, young hippies ungrunged too smart short-board… Well followed, despite a slight deviation ahead, in front of the closed bank at 9pm. Street larger, speed, pourcentage, inlineframe, last food&bevarage, wind and rain, loopmind melow, and appologies of English mistakes, my behaviour in your real life, Sweatheart, must find a better paradise, even best fall in bathroom shower hurts. Seeking slick grounds and fine steeps, communion in town space sharing, not Bond street corner, three Asian people saying along my roll « go ! » I tought « after Brighton, I should travel to Tokyo ? »

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