George Dasher

The Little Black Book

The Little Black Book George Dasher The man was riding his bicycle down a narrow trail of gravel. It was a warm summer evening, and there were cornfields on both sides of the trail, with tall corn, and a rail fence on his left. The trail was straight, smooth and well cared for, and slightly downhill. He was in his bike’s highest gear, pedaling hard, and was moving extremely fast, with nothing but the briefest glances for anything that he was passing.