Harold was really mad. His bicycle ride was gone all wrong! He has really looked forward of trying his new, red bike, and the ride from Birmingham to the village Knowle, ten kilometres outside the centre of Birmingham, was gone very fine. But the front wheel of the bike made a strange noise(sound). He took a five minutes break and was on his way home again. He drove very fast around the sharp turns of the hill, and at the same movement felt the nut of the front wheel of. There laid he with the nose in the surface of the hard, black asphalt. Or rather, the colour of the asphalt was now the same as the bike: blood – red! He limped into the docker`s, which was situated with the foot of the hill, but the secretary sent him home in a cab, then the docker`s surgery hours was over that day. In the cab he had been told of the driver, because his nose was dripping blood on the seat of the cab, and because he hadn’t money enough.
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