mood: reluctantly happy
music: Rancid "It's Quite Alright."

I grab one of the golden commie bikes over at the library. Bucephalus is painted on the side in sloppy black letters. There's flutter of happiness within my skull for the first time in what feels like forever as I pilot the bike down the handicapped ramp and into the empty streets. The wheels roll over and over themselves endlessly and we pick up speed. I can feel the power magnified in each stroke of the pedals as the refurbished 50's bicycle tears across the pavement. Rancid's blaring in my headphones, the driving guitars setting my pace.

The gleaming steed banks a turn and blazes past the cathedral-come-dining hall - I've no intention of venturing into the belly of that beast. There's a tint of blue amidst Bucephalus' paint as the sky reflects back at me. I can't stop myself from smiling. It's a good start to a new day.

"And just like that, it was over... The last flames flickered and died amidst the rubble of an empire[.] As the smoke rose into the blackened sky, we realized that the world we had known was gone forever." - Eric "Doc" Griffin on the fall