Sunday Papers

Early sunshine breaks through mist as he purposefully strides home with Sunday papers. Coloured pages and steaming coffee are delivered to his dozing wife. The bulky remains spread carefully on the kitchen table except the financial section, which is tightly rolled up then poked into his deep back pocket.

An hour later his heart is pounding, breath deep, jagged with effort; perspiration stinging both eyes which squint at shiny, wet tarmac blurred by forward momentum.

Muscles burning he pauses at the summit. The unrolled financial pages sandwiched between chest and lycra for protection. Pedals rotate, gears click, his descent begins.