Sunday, October 26, 2014

This Time I Can't Blame the Puppy.

The sun has set and both kids are off doing things that don't involve me.

 I am free, free, free which means that I can a) start reading book #100 b) write up reviews for the last 9 books I've read c) go to Target or d) take a nice walk with my puppy.

I choose fresh air. I choose health.

Plus my Mom sent me super cute Sketchers that are specially made for walking and I love how bouncy they are so I slip the choke chain over Mia's neck and take her for a walk under the stars.  She's grown up a lot since this summer and she knows to walk next to me and not tangle the leash around me.

We go down a steep hill then turn around and run back up just because we can.

 They sky is inky blue and cloudless; if there is a moon tonight it is shy.
  No deer cross our path. No cats lounge and judge us.

 All and all it's a very nice walk.

And then I saw the flashlight ahead.

I can't see who is holding it, but I can see a white poodle on a leash, staring at me and my happy puppy as we jog towards it.

The flashlight doesn't move so I figure that I should yield the sidewalk and give the poodle its space.

Mia and I cross over grass into the street and just as I pass the flashlight's glare, unaware it has temporarily blinded me I trip into a hole I can't see and fall so hard that somehow I flip over and end up on my back.

The flashlight hovers over me.

 A man's voice asks if I'm OK.

There is no good answer.

I lay there on some stranger's kind soft grass for a minute catching my breath and concentrating on not calling out for my Mom.

My right knee is bloody and my left foot - the one I broke in June -  won't hold my weight for a single step. I'm 99.9% sure I've refractured my foot and I feel equal parts stupid and sad.

The flashlight continues to beam over me.

 I think the man thinks he's helping me by lighting my path but he is still just blinding me.

 I haven't answered his first question so he repeats himself, Are you OK Miss?

I'm too proud to cry. I'm too proud to ask for help.

 I thank him very much for his help and for making sure that I was OK. By the time he walks away I've convinced him that I'm truly grateful our paths crossed and I wish him the best.

After that make the longest walk of my life, going five, six, seven inches at a time, thankful for the cool breeze that was cheering me on.