Jun 28

A moment

There are three moments really. Imagine with me.

Context: I am travelling at a high rate of speed on a friend's Yamaha 250 dirt bike. It is late spring in North Carolina. I am wearing no shoes, shorts and a t-shirt. I have on the best helmet my money could buy. I am starting to turn into a sharp left corner. Everything is good. And then, it wasn't.
Moment one: A small, white, sedan came out of the corner too wide. It drifted into my lane. I hesitated. And in that hesitation, coming up on the lean, I knew I could no longer make the corner.
Moment two: After deciding to put the bike down on the side, on the berm, after hitting something with the rear tired, I see everything now from above, I see myself flip over and land, the clutch lever into my side, and then flip again. I see myself stopped, standing, finally no longer holding the bike.
Moment three: I am inside myself again. I am standing, hands on my knees, somehow, still standing, and looking down at my legs, feeling the shudder, the shock to my body, the confusion, mostly at seeing tiny flecks, sparkles falling gently to the ground, what are those? are they parts of my brain? is it my helmet shattered?
I fell sideways to the ground, to the right side, to the side that was not one giant mess.