Ack

Solo for the past weekend here.
Time to think singular thoughts, to do only the things I choose to do.
You know how that goes...

Decided to get out for a minute on the bike.
In spite of invitations to do other fun things...
Caught up in my own agenda.


The air was warm, but not too warm.
Trying to get into my rhythm, corner to corner.
Feeling the flow of an fairly empty back road.
Visor cracked, to take in the smells of backyard BBQ's and feel summer against my face.

I opened my mouth, to take a deep breath, to settle myself into an upcoming turn...
On a road I didn't know.

And felt it, the unmistakable sensation of some bug smacking over the tongue.
Something big.
Something moving, wedged into my throat.

Standing up the bike from the turn, searching for anyplace to stop.
Wretching against the thing, which is having it's own very bad day somewhere past my mouth.
Helmet ripped off before the heaving sets in, tossed aside.

And up came some watery bile and a writhing stink bug.


As I knelt there, spitting, eyeing that bug squirm and start to wander, I came to realize...

We're never alone.