I keep telling this story. There's a bicycle in his backyard. That bicycle has been there for years. Packed. When I wanted to touch it, he said I shouldn't. I asked why. He said, that is a bicycle of doom. That bicycle has cost a lot of family and good. The bicycle killed his grandfather and his father.
I asked how. He said his grandfather went with the bicycle to farm and he didn't come back. While his father got that bicycle to the market and he didn't come back. It was as if. So they all called the bicycle and never to use it again so that no one is going to die. It was such a sad story for me.
I wanted to ride it. Who knew if I would ride and never make it back home. It was such a touching story.
Sometimes, some things that we keep are not memories of good, but they are memories of bad.