What are they doing to you?

I keep wondering what they are doing to my poor bicycle.

I like to pretend that he ran away because I didn't ride him enough. I could forgive this. I am sorry that I didn't ride you more, but I was injured. You know you were high up on my list of favorite bikes. I am sorry that I locked you up outside.

And then I wonder what the robbers looked like. How did they steal you? Did they strip you down into pieces? I hope they at least let you keep your dignity. Are you crammed in a room with a bunch of other bikes, like a train on the way to a concentration camp? Are you sad and aware that you have been stolen? Gosh I hope not. Maybe they covered you with a sheet so you can't see.

Oh, Yeti, I am sorry. I know I should have ridden you more. Please come back and I will make it up to you.