I didn’t want anything fancy. Just a bike. One I could ride to school without wearing through the soles of my shoes.
For months, I scraped together every cent. I raked leaves, ran errands, collected cans, and stuffed every dollar into an old cookie tin under my bed. The kind of saving that takes more than time—it takes heart.
When I finally had enough, my aunt took me to the store. I found it right away—a red bike with flame decals. It looked like it could fly. I wheeled it toward the counter, a smile stretching across my face like sunshine. I was proud. Hopeful. Ready.
Then came the voice.
“Excuse me, can you step aside?”
A store employee. Frowning.
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