Symphorophilia

 I do not remember why I started taking pictures of the bicycles.  But I was first drawn in by their stupid names. Echo Trail. Fat Cat. Jumpstar. 

 In no time at all people began to pass my description along to the police. I was not doing anything inappropriate but still they had patrol cars arrive quicker at the collision scenes.

 I thought it better to enact some urgent changes to my life. 

 Once I got home I piled all the helmets out in boxes by the curb and left them for the rubbish collection. They hadn’t any owners and most were quite stained from the accidents. It was not like there was some resale value anyhow.