A train of trucks hurtle past us on a narrow highway, passing us in the opposite direction. One truck decides to overtake. The trucks behind close the gap it just vacated. The road's way too narrow, and there's no way to go.
My friend, he swerves off to the edge of the road, only to find a pushcart blocking his way. Loses control of the bike, and it slips out from under him. The loss of balance causes the side-stand to unfold. The edge sinking into a calf muscle, wrentching a gash through soft muscle as it follows the bike in a graceful arc.
I slam on the brakes, the wheels stop short but momentum carries me skidding sideways. The squeel of rubber on road wrenches through my heart. It's all in slow motion, my heart between beats.
I summon the energy and somehow scoop up the 280 pound mammoth in my arms. Blood leaks down the side of my trousers, and for a moment, I wish blood was easy to wash off. Once loaded in the vehical, we speed to the nearest hospital. The attendant helps to heave him out of the car this time to my relief.
16 stitches and a cast to hold everything in. The doctor says he'll mend with nigh a scar. My friend, he smiles, "can we go home now?".
That was the 23'rd of March. A day, I'm not soon going to be able to put behind me. But life goes on.