As I went over the handle bars and into the air I remember I said 'Oh, shit' going up, something like 'fucking hell' going down, nothing as my phone left my hand and then maybe 'Ow' as I tried to stand up.
The man whose car had scared me into my accident stopped and rolled down his window to ask me if I was alright.
I told him that I was alright, and that as I am from England sometimes it enters my head that I am on the wrong side of the road about to be hit by the car coming toward me, so I get panicked and pull the brakes on too hard.
Then, as you do when you have been wounded publicly in an embarrassing way, I started to laugh.
And he did too.
As he drove off I wobbled around the road like a drunkard picking up the pieces of my phone-the back cover, the battery, the body and then I picked up my bicycle and me and my bleeding leg began to limp back across the road to my house.
Just as I got to the middle of the crossing a woman pulled up in a car and leaned out of the window.
'Gosh, I just saw your accident, are you alright?' she asked me.
'Yes,' I said.
Then she asked, 'Are you from around here?'
'No, not technically, but, well, yes,' I said pointing, 'I live in that house over there,'
'Oh,' she said, looking me up and down, 'well, welcome to the neighbourhood, then'
Thank you I called out.
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