Steps | Baby

Leo wasn't. "Can’t I just keep the small wheels for one more week?"

Leo stared at the cracked pavement of his driveway, his heart hammering a rhythm that felt far too loud for a quiet Tuesday morning. In his hands, he gripped the handlebars of a bicycle—the training wheels finally gone, leaving two thin strips of rubber between him and the terrifying concept of balance. "Ready?" his father asked, kneeling beside him. Baby Steps

Leo pedaled. He stopped thinking about the "falling" and started feeling the "moving." By the time he reached the mailbox, his father’s hand was no longer on the seat. Leo was gliding. The wind, which had felt like a wall before, was now a cool hand against his face. Leo wasn't