It was the fall that surprised me the most. Three steps backward, and then that horrible feeling of stomach-in-throat, where time passes normally but feels like an eternity; seconds equaled hours as I prepared myself for the eventual landing; just as I thought I was ready, more time would pass.

All told, I was probably lacking contact with the ground for no longer than a fraction of a second, but just like in the movies, the fall felt like a slow-motion ordeal--it was as if the air were made of liquid and I was lighter than normal, but still heavy enough to continue my downward journey.

Eventually, when I did land with a solid, meaty thump, the pain was exquisite and nearly paralyzing. I knew right away that I wasn't going to be getting back to my feet anytime soon, so I embraced the pain and tried to memorize it. Perhaps the next time I fell, the hurting would be duller, more subdued, because my body would now have a frame of reference for what this type of impact would result in.

While lying on the ground, it occurred to me that I had no idea when another human might pass me by. It was lonely down