TITLE: Going for Kona
GENRE: Contemporary Women's Fiction
My pink bike sliced through the early morning fog at 20 miles per hour. The heavy dew collected on my sunglasses, making it impossible for me to see County Road 2672 extending in a crooked line in front of me. I shouldn't have worn the glasses, but it was too late to take them off unless I pulled over, a tricky proposition in a stream of over one hundred blinded cyclists.
"I can't see s***," I said to my husband.
"I don't see any either," he said.
A laugh escaped my nervous lips. "Adrian. I'm serious. I need to take off my glasses."
Before he could answer, we both swerved to avoid a bicyclist pedaling in the center of the road, just fast enough to stay upright. Objects in fog are closer than they appear.
"Excuse the cart, please," Adrian shouted at him, like the annoying mini-shuttle drivers in the walkways at DFW airport, but with his customary joie de vivre. When Adrian shouted at people, they smiled. As did this fellow, moving to the right.
"Sorry! Have a great ride!"
"You, too," Adrian said.
I licked the moisture off my lips, then reached up and wiped them with my gloved hands. I only succeeded in smearing the condensation around. I didn't dare touch the glasses.
"Adrian?" I moved closer so he could hear me.
"I really can't see. I either need my glasses off or we need to slow down." Given a choice, Adrian - a competitive triathlete - never slowed down.