11/29

12:30

I pick myself up off the ground, mostly concerned with getting out of the parking garage's driveway. My glasses are missing, and I reach for the one piece I see: the side. Someone points out the rest or hands them to me. I don't remember which. My bike is so far away, but I must notice someone else moving toward it; I start walking away. Someone coming the other way stops to tell me my forehead is bleeding. A swipe at my forehead comes away bloodier than I expected; a second swipe covers half my hand. Mike is beside me now with both bikes--his and mine. His eyes widen, and he looks worried. I know University Health Services are nearby--almost right across the street. I start walking that way. He stops me.

Apparently, I was bleeding worse than I realized. He urges me to use something to stem the bloodflow.

"Gym bag. Purple shirt." It's an old one. I think Mom tried to convince me I outgrew it six years ago. No loss, except that it's the coolest shirt I have that's appropriate for gym.

Mike drops his bike on the grass and fumbles for the gym bag wrapped around my handlebars. I stand to the side and watch a drop of blood trickle onto my pale blue coat. I lean forward so the next one falls onto the grass. I watch it like a rain drop falling from the tip of my nose.

Mike passes me the shirt, and I hold it against my face, heedless of the sweat and grime embedded in its fibers. I dropped it on the locker room floor earlier. All well. I know I need something more than I need something clean.

Just then (maybe earlier) someone I know parts ways from the masses of hungry students whose classes ended at 12:20. I've talked to him but not much. Is his name Ray? He says something to the effect of, 'Oh, God, Shannon, are you all right?"

I probably mutter something like "I'll be fine." Isn't faith wonderful? More than that, isn't our culture wonderful? I'm so conditioned to believe that I have to be fine that I can be standing on a street corner, dripping blood with my second pair of glasses this school year in pieces in my hands and still think I'm fine!