A Quick Story about Fall
As part of my attempt to write often and practice my touch typing, here’s a story from the other day. I don’t know if you know, I’m taking an English class. Because I work at the university, they pay for one class per term, so why not? The class is across campus from my office, so I’m generally in a bit of a hurry to get there. A couple of days ago, I was rushing across the street and across the parking lot to the building the class is in. There’s a small wall and a step up separating the parking lot from the sidewalk. I don’t know if my foot slipped hopping up or landing, or if I’m just an idiot, missed the step and tripped, or what, but I fell. Hard. Face down. In the snow. There was snow all down my front, from the top of my suit coat to the bottom of my crisp, dark blue jeans. And in my notebook and the text book for class. And because the street to cross is the main bus terminal at the university, there was probably about a thousand people watching me fall. Hooray! So, that’s my story. Hopefully, it will be a bit cathartic having told it to you.