“Don’t let go, Dad!” I blurted out in terror. Last Saturday afternoon, I was at the park with my father, learning how to ride a bicycle. The towering trees swayed, and a gentle breeze ruffled my hair. Surrounding me, there were people flying kites, reading newspapers and jogging briskly. Sitting on my bicycle, my father held the back of my seat and pushed it.
Gaining speed, all I could see was a blur. “3… 2… 1… I’m letting go!” my father exclaimed.
“Dad!” I yelled, but it was too late. He let go and there was no turning back.
I gulped, and pedalled as fast as I could. Gripping the handle bars tightly, I was doing it! However, I felt a sudden slant and I started falling. Thinking quickly, I leaned a bit to the right before moving the bicycle straight up.
I tried to pedal for as long as I could, and after a minute or so, I put my foot on the floor and stopped. My father ran up to me. Panting, he congratulated me on learning how to ride a bicycle. We then went to get some ice-cream as a reward. I will never forget this memory!