I Love In You And I Love In Me

Somewhere, a little girl is plotting revenge.

Friday, when I left the library, I stood in sunlight at the bike rack. About half a mile later, the sky opened and I ducked into an alcove near the art library and threw on my rain gear. I am a genius, with the rain gear! I’m so smart, I waited a minute or two for the lightning to seem further away, then I climbed on my bike and promptly vaulted into an inconveniently placed flower bed when my rear tire got hooked on something invisible. I landed on my right shin and felt the impact reverberate through my hip. I had two thoughts in rapid succession:

1. I might really be injured here; and
2. Could the light please change so witnesses could go somewhere else and laugh?

So now I’m a plastic-wrapped grandmother in a row of geraniums and a pelting rain, hoping witnesses don’t crash their cars and further delay my arrival at the farmers market. I got up in a series of dumb maneuvers that would embarrass every dance teacher I ever studied with and walked my bicycle to the corner and crossed the street. I waited for the light to change and crossed another street. Then I sailed down a long hill with draining water spitting in my face and knew I was actually okay.

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