I would bump across the cobblestones in the basically deserted early Sunday-morning streets. I had to work desperately to avoid getting my skirt caught in the spokes while I wondered at the beauty of the local synagogue and old cemetery I passed by every week.
The best thing about going to church in the first half of 2006 was the way I got there. I would wake up while my roommates were still sleeping, walk a little way down the street to retrieve my bike and then I would ride across town.
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