This is a true story that I’m submitting (at my brother’s request) to a story contest so he can spend the Gift Certificate I hope to win. He says I get to keep the socks. There’s a 250 word limit, this clocks in at 248.
The afternoon movie ended and I felt amped! 115 minutes of one of Nic Cage’s finest works – Con Air. I hopped onto my archaic Apollo 10-speed and headed for home. The University of Victoria perches atop a plateau and I lived by the Inner Harbour.
A balmy day greeted me as I began my journey. The adrenaline raced through me thanks to the movie. The wind whipped over my scalp. I noticed all the lights winked green for me. A quick glance at my watch confirmed… I could set a personal best time for a ride home.
I wheeled onto Herald Street, two blocks from home. The traffic light turned red. If I hammered down the hill the light would go green right as I hit the crosswalk. Time check. I smash down on the pedals.
As I hit the crosswalk’s white paint the light flashes beautifully green. No cars are running the red.
I stomp down on the pedal, trying to force it into the earth.
The metal fender pops free and wedges itself under my back wheel. My rear brake is useless. My front brake will send me flying. Sparks shoot out from the fender as I slide towards the center line. I shift my weight and careen towards a moving van.
Somehow I glide to a stop.
Smoke curls from the blackened fender, a smell of burnt steel assaults my nose…
… and I didn’t beat my time!