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Rated: E · Fiction · Comedy · #2262344
A man has an unpleasant experience on his bicycle
I knew I was in trouble the moment I heard the chain snap. At thirty miles an hour. Maybe forty. You ever have your chain snap at forty miles an hour? It's scary. Like green around the gills, pit in the stomach scary.

Obviously I didn't need a working chain to slow down. But the loose ends were flapping around, and easily could've gotten caught in the spokes. And if that happened, the rear wheel would've stopped cold, and my bike would've flipped, and I probably would've gotten thrown into a ditch and had my head busted wide open on a large rock.

It wasn't easy to concentrate on my options at the moment, but I tried anyway. I could've swerved – just slightly, mind you – and guided the bike toward the edge of the road, where I could just bail out onto a patch of grass. Or I could've just held on and hope I slowed enough to stop the chain from flapping around.

I don't quite remember which option I chose, if either of them. All I know is that I woke up in the back of an ambulance with two guys leaning over me. And I vaguely remember asking them if my bike was okay. But I don't remember whether either of them answered me, or anything that happened after the chain broke.

Anyway, I now have a pretty big scar on my arm, and a smaller one on my forehead. And I have no idea what happened to my bike. But that's okay. I turned seventy-two last week, so it's probably about time I settled down a bit.
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