Twas the Seventh Day of the Lock Down. In happier and more frivolous times it was known as "April Fool's Day". Unhappy and less frivolous people known as accountants referred to it as The Start of the Financial Year.
Human nature, a strange phenomenon that baffled accountants, showed its irresponsible, anti-social side as many flouted the rules of the Lock Down to gather in crowds at parks and beaches. This sort of thing would prolong the tyranny of the terrible Coronavirus Monster and kill even more members of the All Black Tribe, and Cinda had very good cause to be Hard, Stern and Unamused.
Cone Man feared that the irresponsibility of the few would lead to the curtailment of the one remaining freedom of the many - leaving home for solitary exercise. Suspecting that he would not have to wait long before his worst fears were realised, Cone Man resolved to enjoy what little freedom he could while time allowed.
Cone Man set himself the regime of riding his not particularly mighty steed once every two days and 'power walking' on the days in between. In both cases he would not travel more than two kilometres from his man cave. The power walk could be a round trip to the crest of the Hill of the Gods, while the ride would involve riding to a 600 metre stretch of culvert and riding back and forth on the grass bank.
Cone Man also continued his other exercises. "Is there a problem here?" mused the pondering, pontificating, post-penning, pressing, power-walking, pedalling, planker of Parkway ...
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