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FALL — a fiction
There was definitely a snap as I went down.
There was definitely a snap as I went down. I heard it even as my ankle leered to the right, the side of my foot taking the full weight of my stride. There were sandpaper-scratches on my ankle bone after where it had scraped against the uneven ground, the skin raw and strangely dry before the blood started.
She had told me it would be a bad idea — not in words, of course; it was her eyes. This early after a late night? She stared at me from our bed, willing away the light from my phone as I flashed it around the room. Dressing in the dark. It was our agreement. I could go, but the lights stay off.
Of course, I was completely out of signal. This area never had reception at the best of times, but out here in the fields you were lucky to come across a single bar.
There was a rock a little way behind me sticking up from the path. That was probably the culprit. I wondered whose responsibility involved the maintenance of these paths. Farmers? Council? There would be someone to blame. Upkeep of basics like bridleways and footpaths should be at the top of the priority list for areas like this. Ridiculous that it has been left in this state.
There was already a size difference between the ankles. The left one was puffing out nicely.
I cursed the small gods of footpaths.
I would have to walk back. Even if I were lucky enough to be blessed with a moment of signal, there was no way she could get the car to me. Maybe I could lean on her shoulder, walk the rest of the way to the road. But my phone was useless. I would wait — wait and walk to a better area, maybe get to higher ground — but for now, I was going nowhere.
I slowed my breathing, let the pain do its thing.
The landscape around here is beautiful. The horizon is eternal, green melts into the orange of the sunrise, mellow like fruit juice. Trees stand like cracks against the clouds.
I could stay here for a while. There are worse things that could have happened.