bike accident - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing
One moment I was moving around the corner, my thoughts on everything but the road, then I was falling. That part happens in slow motion every time and I recall those split seconds of realising that there is pain to come and nothing that can be done about it. Then we are skidding down the icy tarmac, my bike and me, the roughness of the frosty surface biting at my jacket. Then all is still. I hit black ice, I must have. But despite the anticipation of bruising I am so very thankful that the road is empty other than me. So I pick myself up and get my bike ready to ride home, making a note-to-self: "I'd get there faster and more surely if I go slower in these conditions." As it is, the rest of the day will be resting, taking it easy. It was an accident, but really, who can I blame but myself?
"Bike accident" should mean cuts and scrapes, a broken arm at the most. What's lying in that hospital bed doesn't even look like Jerome. That car took more than just one future, one spark of hope. Before I even enter his room I know the years ahead are bleak and full of pain for us both. I can't cry though, not now. This is the time for me to be the rock in his storm, breaking will happen tonight and every night afterwards until I can break no more. Then from that new low place of grief we will rebuild...
The bike accident was the freakiest damn thing. One moment Fred was careering down the street and the next his wheel was jammed in the bridge railings, his momentum carrying him right over the top into the river below. All Audrey would say is "Thank God for the autumn rains." She was right too. If Fred had done that just two weeks ago it would have been only rocks to break his fall instead of over a foot of water. Dad was all for calling a lawyer, a specialist in bike accidents to put in a claim against the city, but Fred wouldn't hear it. All he wanted was get his bike fixed and his collar bone healed.
Jackson was having the time of his life. His new trail bike was everything the specs had promised. The gears were flawless and the suspension smooth. He turned down the black-run trail with all the gnarliest jumps and peddled hard. It was better than a video game. The greenery became a blur but his goggles kept out the wind. Watering eyes now could be deadly. He jumped and landed, peddling hard for the next. Then out of nowhere there was a tree blocking the way, it must have come down in the wind the previous night. Jackson jammed on the brakes but it was too late. His wheels locked up but the bike kept on moving forward in the soft mud. When the front wheel connected he was flung forward into a tree. He felt his arm snap before he hit the forest floor. Glancing down he saw the shiny white of his humerus poking out below his shirt and he almost blacked out. The pain was crippling his mind yet he knew he must make a call before he lost consciousness.
Tommy had been wearing a go-pro camera the day of his bike accident. Assuming his eyes were open it showed the last things he saw before his coma. Traffic is moving along as usual and then there's a sudden screeching of tyres, a massive smash of metal on metal. Tommy turned his head and then impact. Some boy racer jumped the lights into a truck and the truck rolled right into the bike. There was nothing he could have done, no error on his part. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Dad can't deal with his grief at all, as usual he converts the emotion to anger and a need for retribution. The bike accident lawyers will do well with all this, promising a grief-stricken old man his pound of flesh. Mama just sits by his bedside keeping vigil for any signs of consciousness.
Mr Jarvis was a bike accident lawyer and he strode into the office with the same air Ted's old school principal used to have. He offered his hand for a firm shake and then laid his pale hand onto the brown claim folder, his lips twitching upward into something that almost looked like a smile. Ted returned the empty gesture with his nervous grin. He'd taken the maximum dose of morphine to get into the lawyer's office and he was feeling pretty good, all things considered.
Leo had done everything right. It was night but he had a powerful dynamo and he wore an old reflective vest of his Dad's. He rode on the side of the lane and never in the middle. His wheels had red reflectors in the spokes. His helmet was fitted just right. But he never stood a chance. At the crossing the lights were in his favor but a Hummer jumped the red and hit him side on. I've seen what's left of the bike. The metal is mangled and a handle bar snapped clean off. I don't even want to know what it did to his body.
Ahead was a police officer, his face as grey as the tarmac. He flagged us down and informed us we'd have to turn around. I protested but Hamish saw something flicker in his eyes, the kind of look people get at a funeral or after some great tragedy. I turned to go, peddling toward the rutted path that was our only alternative. Hamish caught up, "Motor bike accident - rider isn't in one piece anymore."
Kelvin comes in like he's paralyzed on one side, slurring his words. No-one moves or offers sympathy, he always gets like this after a few beers. Usually he's quiet but tonight he's real loud, words indistinguishable at first. "Motorbike accident, four of 'em. Six riders, dead. Wanna go scavenge?" That's it. The room is empty faster than the bar when a squad car pulls up outside. Getting there first means parts that cost a whole lot of dough...
Lisa bent to button up her five year old son's shirt. It was blue checked with orange, a favourite of them both. When she got to the second button she was flooded by a feeling of danger. Her fingers and face froze. Nothing like that had ever happened to her before. There was no danger, just a simple bike ride to the park. "Come Ben, let's go," she smiled, pushing the intrusive thought away. It was only minutes later that his bike swerved unexpectedly into the usually busy road. Ordinarily Lisa froze when these things happened, but she was somehow already primed for action. In a split second she was running into the street, he hand raised to the on-coming cars. Then she swooped down, picking him up and ran, leaving the bike behind. The cars were braking, their tires screeching in long black lines on the summer tarmac. The bike became tangled under the wheels of the first and then the second and third cars rear ended the ones in front to send them all another ten feet down the street...
The cars slowed to a trickle even though our way was clear. To the left was a motorbike accident, the kind I'd rather drive by quickly to avoid the kids getting an eyeful. It was already too late to distract them, by the time my own brain had taken in the horror theirs had too. They'd never even seen a scary movie before, only the fake gore of halloween. Part of me was hoping they wouldn't ask questions, but when they didn't I knew the impact was severe. Talk would happen at home, a prayer for the newly departed and then hope they didn't succumb to nightmares.
There I was cycling along the narrow, bumpy road, the tree's made an arch over my head and small, pink blossom petals fell everywhere. I was lost in a trance. I was so lost I didn't notice the boulder I was heading straight for. After that it was all a blur and soon I found my self in a hospital, broken leg and arm.