A man and a woman on a tandem bike.
The way they stopped at the bike racks, the way the man helped the woman dismount, made it all seem commonplace. As though their bike was nothing out-of-the-ordinary. As though this was how they rode everywhere, every day. They both had dark hair, and their clothes were khaki-green and tweedy-brown. Their bags were made of tan leather, as were their shoes. But none of it looked pretentious, nor pre-arranged. Their coordination, like their bicycle, seemed natural. A part of them. And when they'd chained their bike to the rack (the back of it jutting out, like a limousine in a supermarket car park), they walked off, holding hands. Their feet falling in step.
In tandem.
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