Passing the Baton
Dear Diary:
I was walking up Eighth Avenue near Port Authority when a bicycle delivery person rode past me in the bike lane. A folded paper dropped from his pocket.
“Wait,” I shouted, but he was too far away to hear.
I unfolded the paper. It had five delivery stops for that morning.
As I contemplated what to do next, I heard a voice behind me: “Over here.”
Looking over my shoulder, I saw another bicycle delivery person slowing down and extending his hand.
I jogged alongside him and, as if passing a baton in a relay race, handed off the paper.
He grinned, lowered his head and sped off after the first bicyclist, who was barely visible in the distance. I just knew he would catch up with him.
— David Boccio
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