The Landlord, shouted out to me from the kitchen.

" 'cisco! Phone!"

I came down from the bar and picked it up. On the other side, there were tears and heavy breathing carried over the distance of a thousand copper highways.

"There was a motorcycle accident."

I closed my eyes and tried not to swear. The whole world stopped, like it's cogs had jammed, or it was running on Windows.

Seconds later, I told myself I would never let my kids ride. Hours later, I realised how disappointed I'd be if they actually obeyed. Only today, in the morning, did the thought occur: why on Earth did my parents let me? Me of all people. I've crashed the thing more times than I can count. I crashed it into an ambulance once (and I was even sober that time).

 God, I miss that bike.