Brick Walls and Iron Locked Gates Won't Keep Me From The One I Love

At around 3:30am on Wednesday morning, I woke up hearing clicking noises and scuffling. I was frozen stiff, trying to figure out if the sound was coming from inside or outside. Then a CRASH! and we both lept out of our bed to the window. All was still, and we could see that my green bike had toppled. "The bikes just fell over," said Casson. "Are you sure they are both still there?" I asked. Neither of us could see without our contacts. I went to flip on the porch light, and Lo! Casson's bike was gone. He raced outside and jumped the wall, but no one was in sight. "Well, that sucks." We called the police anyways, to report it. The cop was very friendly and actually seemed to care a lot. He said that the transient population in this area have often been stripped of their driver's license for whatever reason, and so they steal bikes for transportation. That explains all the angry people that Casson passes on his way to work every morning. It's the same people every day, and they never say hello. They must not be out for a pleasant morning bike ride. The cop said that the trouble maker transients also all ride bikes because they can escape the police down alleys and across fields. Well, lesson learned. Our bikes are still on the porch, but three locked together with U-locks will probably be too much to hoist. We're just very grateful that all the person wanted was the bike. And now it's not a bad thing that we haven't yet sold our other car (not that we've advertised it yet), so Casson has transportation to work without having to leave me stranded in the apartment. Not that I'd mind lately. I've started learning to sew...