“Then he simply ceased pedalling. The bicycle’s momentum carried it forward a while but—as bicycles will—the machine began to waver from side to side ever more precariously.“
I was talking to my fellow author, Daphne C., and the conversation spiralled around to our student days together. That eventually led me to trot out two stories that a philosophy student—let’s call her “Helen”—told me at the time.
Helen’s first story concerned a philosophers’ party.
Right off the bat, this had my attention as an oddball story, because philosophers, giant turtles and three-toed sloths are one of type IMO – not party animals.
Nevertheless, Helen insisted there had been a philosophers’ party which she was part of. At the end of the evening, her prof left the party on his bicycle. It was a balmy Cape summer evening, so the remaining partygoers clustered on the porch to wave the prof goodbye and watch him pedal away.
Continue reading “The Philosopher’s Bicycle”
