ABSTRACT
The sun is shining. My ‘Union’ is beautiful. Its black frame and moulded fittings evoke nostalgia, a yellowed image of Dutch country roads and a smell of childhood spirit. The hazy sun in the 1960s! Until now, its lock has been an innocent, simple latch. It was frail; a child’s’ lock. Sometimes it opened by itself, and it certainly would not have stopped someone kicking it open. But today I cycled to the bike shop and bought a proper lock. Now I can leave my ‘Union’ in front of the university, the bookshop, the pub – anywhere.
