Fragments from a fall
The Fall My left shoulder throbbed. From the hot pain rose the strangest image. A giant eagle had sunk its giant talons into my left shoulder, and then squeezed until I breathed out, barely controlled, a thin jet of frosty air. I had just fallen off my bike coming down a stretch of riverbank ice blanketed by morning snow. My front wheel slid. I lost control. I hit hard. I was on the ground, part of a debris field. My bike was on its side, its front wheel twisted backwards. The Go Pro handlebar mount was sheared off. The camera was half buried, still rolling. The tiny red light record indicator pulsed. The rear panniers were hanging by single hooks. These are things I noticed when my shoulder was dislocated. It was so quiet, in the snow, in the trees, under the sky. This is what it looked and sounded like from where I sat, and then didn't. Before I was part of a perfectly lovely morning in the city. Jeff at Sugared & Spiced had opened the shop early for Coffee...