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DEAR DIARY
05.10.2026
Yesterday I was crossing the street at the light. I had a walk sign. The green walk man showed up on his walk sign and told me to walk. I trust that man on his sign. I trust him with my life. When he walks I walk too. When he goes red I know to Wait! until he goes green again. He walked greenly; I followed his lead.A motorized bike was suddenly zipping towards the crossing, perpendicular. The bike was going fast. The bike did not listen to its red light and instead listened to the man riding it, who (it seemed) did not care about lights at all and cared mostly about going fast.
I sort of got tangled up with the bike and its motion. I sort of felt like I was falling for a long time, an extended prolonged Mr. Bean fall with a bike both on and under me. I sort of fully somersaulted backwards and came to rest with chin (mine) pressed up against curb (city property).
I stood up and bled a bit. The rider said sorry (laughingly) and, when asked for his Information by a kind man who declared himself a Witness, got back on his fast bike and zipped away fast. Really it seemed he cared mostly about going fast.
A-- and G-- ubered me to hospital and fed me kinder bueno and tangfastics from A&E vending machine. The man at the intake desk asked slow dull questions without wasting time generating facial expression. He did not ask whether I'd sustained head or neck trauma but did ask for my race, noting white (other) while I hunched over ice pack. He asked for next of kin. He asked if I'd filed a police report. Robotic but with an apathy that felt uniquely human, is how I described him to mama once I'd logged into the hospital guest wifi and checked 'i agree' to a privacy policy I hadn't read and called her on whatsapp.
It seemed miraculous, Miraculous!, that I was basically okay, just a bit beat up, after a collision so exaggeratedly & limply & comedically physical, so I got all giddy and giggled about nearly everything. I ate tangfastics. I could hear myself repeating myself. My lap was damp from ice pack drippings.
Woke up today both stiff and wiggly. Spent most of day in bed feeling both stiff and wiggly. Meant to read but didn't read. Scrolled for ages. Felt strange. Took ibuprofin. Took paracetamol. Ate rest of tangastics from A&E vending machine.
Before getting struck I had been playing catch. It was a good day, the first in a while. I cleaned my room. G-- came over and we walked to South Parks. We lay on my picnic blanket at the top of the hill, the city's spires spread fantastically below, and talked about Life. I teared up under my big sunglasses and pretended she couldn't tell, even when she stopped talking and started rubbing my shoulder. Then we played catch. We played catch!! Playing catch is miraculous. Playing catch in the park is as good as it gets. Go wide!! we called out. And let's try left hand only! And sorry, my bad! And great catch! And one more one more! Down below, far enough away to be fantastical, small traffic slid along St. Clements. At that sort of distance the traffic can do what it likes without hitting you.