The only one

Tanah Merah, 56 km. I go west to see how long it takes to cycle to a certain ferry terminal. There are three in the area, excluding the military one. And the naval base. At Changi Coast Road, the road ahead and behind me is devoid of cyclists. Where is everyone? Yes, there are many cyclists along the park connector, but they're all heading the other way. And I'm the only cyclist on the road.

When there's only one (whether person or thing), and it's gone, it's hard. Will there ever be another one? Maybe, but unlikely. And, sometimes, never.

Or perhaps, we don't know. It looks like I'm the only cyclist on the road, as far as I can see ahead or behind me. But, perhaps, out of sight, there are others on the road?

Round the bend, I see a faint, blinking blue light. What's this, blue light special at Kmart? Turns out to be a roadie. I "reel" him in on my knobbies. He overtakes and gets ahead, but not for long. At 40 km/h hour, I pass him and he catches up at a stop light. "Alone?" he asks. Yeah.  Turns out he's with some friends, who drop him. He's cycling alone to meet them several km away. When the light turns green, I drop him.

Along a busy road, a dog crosses. "Leave me alone," I scream silently at it. As I near it, it crosses again, towards me. Yikes! With traffic passing me, there's no room for evasive action. But it doesn't even look at me. I look where it's looking. A puppy, the only one. It's scared to follow mama across the road. And that's why mama (I guess it's a mama) came back. Aw, so sweet.