I took the night shift, so my dad, aunt, step mom and cousin could get some much needed sleep in beds, showers and fresh change of clothes, after fifty two hours of waiting for death by my grandfather’s bedside. When I arrived at the hospital, I noticed this bicycle that I’d been walking past in the parking lot for the last two days had a thick coating of dust. Upon closer inspection I could see that the chain was rusty, the tires flat. I couldn’t help wondering what happened to its owner. Did they bike over to get checked out in the ER and never leave again? Come for an out patient procedure that went terribly awry, causing them to forget their bicycle was here? So many possibilities, all of them bad.