I almost lost my life on the way to class today. As I was walking along the dirty sidewalk, weaving in and out of the useless masses of flesh blocking my way, I realized how late I was running for my film test. I had less than a minute to make a five minute walk to my class. If I was late, I would fail the test, giving me, at best, a miserable “D” for the semester. I began a dead sprint, running as fast as I could, dodging the blurry bodies walking around me. The taste of bitter sweat dripping from my forehead entered my mouth as I glanced down at my time device attached to my wrist. On a side note, that is a hell of an invention. Seriously. We used to need the fucking sun to tell time. Now you have a quartz crystal resonator attached to your body making sure you don’t miss another repeat of Fraiser. There were only twenty seconds left before the doors would slam shut, like Heaven’s gates on Hitler. But luckily, I was next to the building. As I rounded the sharp corner, a gigantic fat kid riding a purple bike bending under his enormous weight collided with me, knocking me to the rough pavement. I tried to pick myself up as fast as possible, but the blistering pain prevented all movement except the slew of curse words pouring from my mouth. The impact left me with a broken wrist and a sprained left knee. I missed the test, but am able to take it tomorrow at the butt-crack of 2:00 pm. I should be sleeping but the pain is far too intense to sleep with. I feel as if I was hit by a truck. Not a little S-10, but a big hick truck. The kind with a Confederate flag soaring from the antenna and raised up on monster truck wheels. Hopefully, the pain will subdue itself by the morning, otherwise I may kill myself.
Just kidding. Today was fine.