Forlorn Bike

It's below zero Farhenheit, snow's piling up. Another large branch has come down from the dying maple tree in my back yard. At work, they've shut things down for today and tomorrow, except for essential personnel.

There's still bikes locked in racks at work. Who forgets a bike for this long? The grumpy old cuss in me thinks that they don't deserve the bike, and someone should steal all those bikes.