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25
Percy
Saturday 2:37 Pm
Ihit the street with a dull thud, the air evacuating my lungs in a rush.
“Oh, fuck me dead,” I groan, my scattered mind happening upon one of Lock’s favorite phrases.
I roll to my back, my hip grating over the rough asphalt, and wrap my arms protectively around my stomach.
I don’t know why, since the damage has clearly already been done. Still, I find a morsel of comfort in the gesture.
The revelations of my little car ride wash over me anew, anxiety building with each relived memory.
I’ve really gone and fucked up this time.
I raise my hand, letting the back of it hover before my face. The ring sparkles innocently in the sunlight, as if it isn’t the cause of my current predicament.
“Who do you think you’re fooling?” I ask myself, echoing Anton’s words. “This is all your fault.”
I groan. All I wanted to do last night was have a little fun. I wanted to drop all the commitments I’d fallen into and just fucking live how I’m happiest.
Now I’m married, laying in the street, while bruises sprout up across my body and I chat with an inanimate object.
Yeah, I fucked up big time. It bears repeating.
I let my hand fall back to my stomach, instead staring fixedly at the blanket of sky above me. Fluffy clouds roll slowly across my field of vision, shapes forming in their perfect forms.
I stare at them, willing myself not to think.
I need a moment of peace, and laying in the street might not be the ideal place for it, but you work with what you’ve got. Honestly, if any cars approach me, they can fucking go around me.
I need this.
My eyes zero in on a particularly large cloud, its crisp white body resembling a bear. I trace its shape with my gaze, looking for details in the blank form.
Ding, ding!
The sound of bells assails me, sharp and piercing in the silence.
I tune it out, instead searching for more pictures in the sky.
Ding, ding!
I growl.
Can’t a girl get a moment of peace?
Frustrated, I turn toward the noise, my breath catching in my throat as I witness its source.
Speeding toward me, going much faster than one might expect, is a huge group of bicyclists. Their eyes are clearly fixed on unseen destinations ahead, their feet not even slowing against the pedals.
I cringe, frozen in place like a deer in headlights.
So this is how it ends.
Getting run down in the streets of Amsterdam. By bikes, nonetheless.
