This is my poor pathetic knee
The curb looked up at me and said...'' I am tougher than you, Kiddo.'' Oh Yeah, I am riding my stylized mighty Mongoose, trimline special road bike...Ya, wanna bet Curby ? The guanlet was thrown, accelerating my bike I drove full tilt for that obstinant block of grey.
Then without warning Curby struck with unimaginable power, Wham, pow, splat...Yeeoww!!! As my throbbing head lay in the gutter, I could hear ol' Curby's snickering voice...'' I am up for a rematch, Foo...'' Oh crud Curby, I am covered in blood and wreathing in agony...back off, I said. As I stared down at my knee covered in the wounds of battle, I thought of that great Spanish Ancestor of mine Dona Elise Quixote de la Mesa. She would have been proud...hmm, I thought I still have one good knee left...perhaps, just perhaps, I could yet triumph over my foe, the Curbaceous serpentine challenger. No, defeat was not in my character. Mustering my courage...I stripped my jacket off, blotted the cold sweat from my face and wrapped it tightly around my blood caked knee. Que rifa ! I said. Mongoose, mi caballo valiente atacamos un otra vez !
As I lay for a second time face down on the asphalt, I wondered how Dona Elise would of responded as the tears puddled up below my nose.
