"I pedaled down the side of West Reynolds Avenue, relying on passing headlights to lead my way. I prayed that the moonlidht made me visible. No one knew I was out here. No one. What if a car slammed into me, knocking me into a ditch? If I didn't die from my injuries, I'd freeze to death long before anyone spotted my crumpled bike.
A bitter January gust whipped my hair into my eyes. I was shivering so hard, I could barely steer my bike in a straight line. I pulled my hood up with one shaking hand while cars..."