Tumble

Yesterday I flew. Down a hill I was flying, flying, I stood up on my new bicycle, feet balanced on the pedals - I felt so powerful and free. I was flying.

I was flying.

Off my bicycle.

I wasn't used to the brakes. They were too fast, and so was the road coming up to my face. I went right over.

I used my hands to break my fall.

'oh my god oh my god' the lady walking her dog next to me

I was terrified.

I scraped my hands quite badly and my right shoulder and my right cheekbone landed on the road too but thankfully there wasn't even a scratch, or a bruise.

I was horrified by the idea that there must be pieces of my skin somewhere on the road.

Blood was pooling on my palms, two bright red patches, like Jesus' cross marks.

I was so scared. God's guardian angels were really there, they must have been. I wasn't wearing a helmet. Stupid, stupid stupid.

I thought I was okay but a couple of hours after that I just started sobbing at my computer.

The shock I suppose.

I remember when I veered off my bicycle into the drain right outside our house, and went upstairs bawling and Mum just sat me on her lap even though by then I was too big for that and hugged me and did the 'shh shh shhhh' sound she makes when any of us cry.

Today I bought a bicycle helmet.