The pedal

A few months ago, I found myself one late evening having a very strong craving for pastries. My cousin got hung on the idea, and admitted her fancy for a kind with figs.
So we run down three flights of stairs to find that the scooter was away and the car isn't available. The bakery is a couple of kms away, and we were too tired to walk. And the dark, too.
So what do you do when you hear some exotic pastry calling your name?
She had an idea. Brings a bicycle out. Brilliant.
I try my hand at it. Not only could I not cycle too far, but I fell off not being able to reach the pedal.
So she takes over, does a fair job of it as I held on for dear life.
And she pedalled hard, ringing that little metallic bell everytime a car honked behind. And we grinned hideously as they overtook.
Donuts after a bumpy bicycle ride, with a generous sprinkling of
heady, uncontrolled laughter. Happy, happy, happy!!!
Kudos to you, sister!