I read that in your LJ Deb, and couldn't find the words.... That's how I respond to very bad news. I freeze. It made it very personal and powerful to me.

Bicycle

"Try again. Remember, if it tips, turn that way."

"Yeah."

A smooth hard push, the release, and then he's on his own.

He's staring so hard at the handle-bars and the front wheel that he doesn't notice he's gone twice around a circle about twelve feet across. But he hasn't fallen over yet, and he is pedalling just enough to keep going.

He finally straightens out, manages to go half-way across the parking lot, turn around, and come back. There is a big smile on his face, and a hint of fear still in his eyes.

"How do I stop?"

Susan, good plan. And I did love that kiss.

Deb, you captured a really painful, terrifying moment. "Long slow march to nowhere" really stung. Glad you're here, by the way!

dcp, I love this. God, I know that look, "staring so hard at the handle-bars."

I don't think I mentioned it, but Teppy, your coffee drabble was brilliant. Ooh! That gives me an idea.

I had technical problems last night, Deb. I suspect a conspiracy.

Heh. dcp, that was a definite memory, of watching my daughter learn to ride a bike. She never really took to it - I think your "how do I stop?" may be a universal moment, or close to it.

Drabble #24, First Time

The smell of sulphur is sharp and kind of sweet—even Carol is too new at this to own a lighter. The cigarette itself is a Marlboro Light, short and all white, and the filter paper sticks to my bottom lip as I cautiously inhale.

I have a mouthful—no, a lungful—of burnt tobacco, but I hold it in, desperate not to cough. I pass the butt back to Carol as I exhale, watching the thin gray trail disappear. Our shoulders touch as we huddle on her back porch in the twilight, wreathed in smoke, absurdly proud of ourselves.

He hadn't meant to. It's just...you know how angry he gets. His temper is no surprise to anyone. She had really messed up, she will admit it even today. And then she kept pushing and pushing.

What did she expect? What did any of us expect? Even though he'd never done it before, it was exactly the sort of thing he might do if you got him mad.

That first time, she wasn't pregnant. She hadn't needed to drive herself to hospital after he stormed out. That first time, she didn't tell her older sister where the damage came from.

AmyLiz, deb, thanks for that. The middle paragraph needs more work, though. Is this better? Or worse?

He is staring hard at the handle-bars as he tries to correct each wobble, and each attempt to pedal throws his balance off again. He weaves left, lurches right, and manages to maintain just enough speed to keep going.

It is less accurate to the memory, but also a less complicated image.

I gave up trying to find a succinct way of explaining that learning to stop was harder in the days when kids' bikes usually had coaster brakes and not hand brakes.

Jesus, ita.

dcp, I rather liked the original - it had the ring of memory to it. But you could do either way, with no damage to the piece.

Very strong, descriptive drabbles.