A dream.

I drive past them every morning on my way to work.

A man walking steadily up the long incline. Ahead of him is a young boy struggling to push the pedals of his bicycle. The boy could be eight or nine years old.

Although the boy is always dressed appropriately for the prevailing weather – a light jacket in summer, a warm one in winter and a raincoat in the rain, the man clearly ‘makes do’.

It struck me that the boy always has a helmet on his head.

I see them almost every time I drive that route, week after week, month after month – except in the school holidays.

I imagine that the man is accompanying the boy to school.

I long to stop and say ‘Hi’; to perhaps offer them a lift in the rain. But I never have.

It is an affluent area. The scene suggests that the man is determined that his efforts will be well worth while; that his young son will, one day, produce the fruits of his dreams.

They touch my heart.

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