The new Schwinn sat there outside our office window for three long months. Someone bought a nice bike, carefully chained it to a trashcan, and then walked away. Leaving it there—for good.
My co-workers and I saw the bike daily and, since it sat near one of the main entrances to our building, so did everyone else.
During the last few storms of winter, we would watch the snow pile up on its seat.
And, in rain—we wondered if it would start to rust. At times when I passed it, I thought could see a little mold beginning on its nicely cushioned seat.
Speculations about the bike bounced around our office at times, as we tried to guess what happened to the owner. Were they abducted? Did they just forget where they'd left the bike? Or maybe they just couldn't fit it in their car when they left the area.
Sometimes the Schwinn would take to leaning away from the trashcan, making it difficult for people to pass. And this is when it bugged me the most. What was such a nice bike doing sitting out in the weather getting in everyone's way?
by Debra Torres
There was something in the cabinet that someone was trying to keep safe. It was in a shared office kitchen, but the creamer in that cabinet wasn’t for all to use. Thus the chain, the padlock, and the paper clip.
Yep, the paperclip.
That was the funny part. If you look closely at the image above, you’ll see it. The last link of the chain is connected to the padlock with what looks like a twisted paper clip.
I thought it was a funny site. How secure was the creamer, really? Who did it keep out? Probably anyone who wasn’t strong enough to untwist a paperclip.
I laughed at that and even took a picture with my phone. But the more I thought about the paperclip lock, the more I realized that I often do the same kind of thing in my own life.
And maybe you do, too.
Amish Fiction Author and Blogger:
Get Free Amish and Mennonite Recipes!
Receive my collection of authentic Amish and Mennonite recipes via email when you subscribe to my author newsletter.
Read More Devotions