It was the earliest gift given by Bing when she first moved in. It had a length nearly her height, and the wheel’s diameter equaled to half the length of her leg. At the front was a basket with a folded umbrella inside; and at the back a baby seat. Mei fetched her bike, locked the door, pushed it along the track, picked up the little boy from a crossing and rode in a hurry to the market.
Once off the sandy path, a single paved road straightened more than one hundred meters along some open fi elds of vegetable plots. Mei sped up. A cool wind came to dry her eyes and the coolness was irritating to her nose. Time and again, she had to compress her lips and then open her mouth when she was too short of breath. The line of her vision was sometimes straight sometimes zigzag. She rode on.