You don’t forget.
You just get rusty.
Writing is like riding a bike.
We were in La Rochelle, France. Me and my bestie, Munirah. We had rented bright silver velos (bicycles) and were going to cycle round this beautiful island surrounded by azure blue seas.
Mine had a giant basket, and I felt the taste of adventure in the wind.
Until I got on the bike, wobbled, and fell.
Munirah was laughing her butt off.
She said: ‘I thought people can’t forget how to ride a bike!’
Well, they can’t. But they do get rusty.
I hadn’t ridden since I was 12 years old. Thats a certain number of long, long years ago.
So, I got back on the bike, fell a few more times and garnered several pitiful looks from the calm bike-riding Frenchies cycling past me.
But, I eventually stopped wobbling, stopped falling (Thank God!) and got the hang of it!
Bear with me, as I wobble over my sentences, and trip over my phrases.
I will eventually get back into the swing of writing.
As I will, into the swing of READING, which of course, is the life-partner of writing.
Love you all.