“Bang!”. I was cycling down a steep hill in my unusual coloured bike. I wasn’t watching where I was going and crashed into a telephone pole. I don’t really know what happened but I think someone tied my bike to the pole and then tied me to my bike. I couldn’t move. Fortunately, a sparrow landed on me and pecked at the ropes. I was still tied on. Eventually, I wriggled out. After a few years, it was still there. It wasn’t yellow any more. It was old and rusty. Soon people called it the leaning bike.