Stranded Mexico

I

My bike glided along the side of the bridge, I looked across the way, but I couldn't see a thing through the smog of my cold breath. When I stared at the sky I noticed the sun fighting the clouds just to give the world light, I wrote in the journal my grandmother gave to me the night she died, "the sun works so hard just to give us light".. My worn out strawberry-red converse hugged my feet as I started to bike again. My dark brown curls got I'm my eyes as the wind struck my face when I pedaled faster and faster.