The long-awaited second installment is here.

After waiting five minutes, I starting thinking about all the things I had to do that day. The rapscallion responsible for the push-bike banditry was probably peering down at me from a rooftop with binoculars at that moment, ejaculating evil cackles. I walked back to my bike, unlocked it, still feeling like I was dreaming, and rode off. My bike provided me with much-appreciated transportation for the next few months, until one sepulchral afternoon the following semester. I hadn’t bothered to find a new lock for my bike, the whole situation having been so bizarre, and me being lazy when it comes to maintenance tasks like buying new locks for my bicycle. Many a dawn-to-dusk when the memory of such devil-may-care foolhardiness would be shadowed by bitter regret.
To be continued.