Have You Seen My Bike?

Heidegger, lost bicycles, and one year of Genocide as seen from relative safety

It’s the skittering time of fall: just almost cold at night, honey all day long, the trees and the sky doing something terrifying or sexy or both together at the leaf tips, so fast and so many you can’t tell; children test strange new limbs and social mores and clothing, gumming personality and braces and sweet things in their mouths, bonding and scatte…