Nothing is Ever Easy Finalist: Winter 2019 Writing Contest “Are you okay, Stew?” I turned my body and felt the bike wobble beneath me. In the distance, I could see his headlight flickering. “Are you okay, Stew?” My frustrations grew at the need to check again. “Okay,” a weak reply, but it was soothing, nonetheless. “I love you.” I checked my phone: one road, and 12 kilometers left. I pushed the pedals, but the pin on the map barely moved.
