My bike got stolen today. It was locked up at a train station and when I came back it was gone from where I left it. There was no one around to talk to, so my reaction was internal. It went something like this: "Hmm, my bike is gone. Is it really gone? Yes. This is definitely where it was locked up, with that janky little lock of mine. My bike has been stolen. Why would somebody steal my bike? That is really mean. Now I definitely have to fix my ten-speed. Hmm. I'm hungry. I think I'll walk to the market."