It doesn’t take long and I start floating. “Remove the surplus matter”, as the guy in Remainder by Tom McCarthy would say. I had just finished reading the book during breakfast, took my bike and cycled to uni. And I floated. It was very cold but sunny and crisp clear. I knew the way, I didn’t have to focus. I know now where in particular before the corners I have to slow down, and when exactly I have passed that point where I’d tip over if I’d pedal. I know where exactly, when rushing down the bridge, I can pedal again without slowing down the pace with the friction of the pedals. I know when to look left, right or back. I know where I can cut corners and where I better keep on the right side. And I know where to go slow until the red light turns green.
I am just floating along the eight kilometers to uni. And I notice changes and unusualnesses, which means things have become usual to me: the bicycle room got messed up or newly sorted or I don’t know. First there was more space because someone had arranged all the flat tired bikes in a new way. But if that mute boy puts his scooter in, then it gets all crowded again. And someone tinkered with the light. It has a sensor and if you don’t move for one second it goes off. So I have a permanently flickering disco light there always while locking or unlocking my bike. Before the light was just on always. Another everchanging place is the construction site at the university hospital. And when crossing the parking lot of the huge supermarket obviously the cars are always parked differently, and less in the morning or at around noon than when I come back in the afternoon.
I like the way, but I need gloves, and I haven’t gone yet when it was raining. Besides I only had to go twice per week so far. But the fourty five minutes I take have not bothered me yet.