I’m striding to work. Both hands loaded with my previous night’s sweat and blood. I begin to pick up the pace after my cautious crawl downhill. “Isn’t the ground pretty, so sparkly…”.
It’s a big day for me, my future rests on one man. Inspector Hatchet. I made sure to practise batting my eyelashes and flashing sweet smiles in the mirror before stressing about what one must wear for such a man. I went Katie Holmes in Dawson’s Creek on my ass. “The wholesome, safe, reliable look would be right up his alley”, I decide.
All primed I gather the fruits of my labour giving them one look over to be sure to be sure. Turning the key and blaring Kings of Leon down on my iPod I bounce down the street brimming with confidence. “Today is gonna be a good day”.
I smile at randomers, juggle bags from one shoulder to the other and wave at a grinning toddler thrilled with his rattle in the backseat of a car. I turn the final corner where my future awaits me when my skirt ends up around my ears.
I had become so distracted by everything and nothing that I had failed to notice a thick patch of ice on the sloping path. I fell like a tonne of bricks, flat on my back, legs in the air, a la John Dorian. It takes me a minute to realise what had actually happened.
Quickly, I tuck my Bridget Jones’ out of the public eye and attempted to pull myself back up. “Phew, no one around”. Red cheeks tame down. “Shite, no one around!”. Can’t get up. I slowly gather myself together and in a daze spot a ledge close to where I’d crash landed. I slide myself down the path a little and grab a hold of the windowsill. With every last morsel of might I drag myself to my feet and edge my way to an ice free patch on the path.
I begin to feel every last milimetre that made contact with the ground, drawing my attention away from my blackened coat and skirt. I trudge up the hill to work, the debris on my tights loosing from my pained stagger. Tears trickle down my cheeks as the sting reaches my eyes.
In the gate. A collegue smiles. “All set for the today?”. I try and I can’t answer. I had a date with the packet of painkillers and a soapy towel.
Yikes! Poor you. I hope the rest of the day went considerably better after that?
The higher you feel, the harder you fall. Poor you!
Ah hon!
I had one ofthem at Christmas,off the slippery step. Legs up in the air,and flat on my back.
I was going out to move my car to let my husband out and I
I just lay on the steering wheel and cried.
Nothing caps it all like falling on your ass, I must say.
Hope your inspection went ok. Di Dhuit an Cigaire! Or however you spell that…
NOOOO, oohhh arse! Many hugs!