This year, paying taxes turned out to be a little more painful than usual. On my way home from the post office, I accidentally got off my bike before I came to a complete stop. I was going about 55kph. There I was, apparently not minding my own business as well as I should have been, when suddenly, in the middle of a major intersection, my bike and I went our separate ways. I suppose we must have been growing apart for some time and I simply hadn't noticed, just as I hadn't noticed any obstacles until the front wheel ran into what I can only assume must have been a tear in the fabric of space itself, or maybe that pothole I always forget about.
It all went pretty well, considering. I wore out the knees of my pants a bit faster than I'd planned and here and there I'm missing some skin I'd been taking for granted. Several bystanders got to watch me fly through the air then surf the asphalt on my wonderful biking gloves, whose virtues I can't praise loudly enough and without which I wouldn't be typing today.
When I finally ground to a halt, I got up, picked up my bike (which I was very pleased not to have gotten tangled up in), walked out of the street, and assured everyone I was fine and told them how happy I was to be wearing gloves, not realizing as I showed off my leather-clad hands that one of my arms was shouting "he's not fine, he just doesn't feel it yet". But escaping with just a few scrapes is pretty good, and it was nice that I was just a few blocks from home. I can't say that I recommend a biking accident, but if you do find yourself in one, I hope it goes as well as mine.