Ten miles into the ride, he had entered a sort of trance. Thoughts had faded along with the early aches of his stiff muscles.
The rhythm of his pedals
The wind in his face
The asphalt beneath his tires
The breath in his lungs
The sound of a car
A quick glance over his shoulder, then eyes ahead
Not even that close, and it had flown past in an instant, but that was all it took.
A wheel dropped off the asphalt
The world flipped on its side
A roaring engine
And finally, pain.
At first it was everywhere, but thought was quickly returning, and he was able to take stock.
No, just the pounding of his pulse in his ears.
He was alive.
Eyes opened, and he saw. Swaying stalks of corn. A car quickly receding into the distance. A vast immensity of blue. His bike.
It was in better condition than he was, wheels and handlebars still straight, he just needed to fix the chain.
Home was only ten miles away.
* * *
Story by Gregory M. Fox