Crane. Bike.

So.
Walking to my office this morning.
Browsing my iPod.
Settle on Scene Unseen.
Thinking about which students I'll see today.
Wondering what their excuses will be.
Another dead Gramma?
Thinking about how much this kink in my neck is suck.
Ow.
Making me unable to look to my left without spinning my shoulders with my head.
Thinking about how much turkey I'm going to eat.
Gravy.
Mmmm.
...
Boom!
Getting tackled?
Attacked?
Spun around.
Almost fell down.
The hell?
Basketball girl on her bike won't be bothered with paying attention.
My balance restored.
She's straddling her sideways bike.
The hell?
Did I just get run over by a bike?
My neck: ow.
I stare at her.
Jumpsuit and ponytail.
Furrowed brow.
"Sorry," she said.
I stare at her.
I bite my lip.
(For once.)
She pedals off.
I limp to my building.
...
If you'd like to sneak up on me today, do it from my left.
Bring your bike.
And your casual undergraduate indifference.
Wear it as you ride.
Ninjas.