‘Do you realize what bicycles mean to people? They’re like ice cream or children’s stories, they’re primal objects woven into the fabric of our earliest memories, not to mention our most intimate connection with the wheel itself an invention that marks the commencement of the great ascent of human knowledge that bought us through printing presses, religious transformations, undreamt-of speed, the presses, the moon. When you ride a bicycle you participate in an unbroken chain of human endeavor stretching back to stone-carting Egyptian peasants…’

Excerpt from ‘Notes to My Biographer’, a short story from Adam Haslett’s book, You Are Not a Stranger Here