The Reaper, the Road and the Bicycle
When I was a young undergraduate student, I cycled everywhere. It was about 2 miles from my accomodation to the lecture halls and since my parents had gifted me with a bike... I thought it a shame to waste money on a bus.

And I am ashamed to say committed the three cardinal cycling sins, all of which were bloody stupid.

1) Not wearing a helmet - this is bad, but you're only a danger to yourself, your danger to anyone else is unchanged
2) Not wearing reflectives - Something a lot of cyclists don't do, but my bike didn't even have rear reflectors. That's very bad.
3) Not wearing lights at night - this is just plain stupid. For yourself and everyone around.

I will quite possibly end up in hell when I die, being repeatedly run over by women on mountain bikes, all of which look like Anne Widdecombe.

Cycling home from an evening at a friend's one rainy night... I turned the corner. With no lights. I was a ninja on a bicycle, silent and deadly.

And there in the middle of the road, I saw Death. Wearing a huge cloak, with an ancient wrinkled face, and hand outstretched. His bony finger pointing at me, his mouth open as if in horror with long white hair wetly plastered to his face. I skidded to a halt and fell off my bike. I was shocked, but hadn't hit my head. But all that faded into fast terror when Death walked over to me, his cloak billowing dramatically in the wind and rain - it would have made a great cover to a rock album.

For a second there, I thought I'd actually died and that he was the Grim Reaper come to collect me. He stood over me, his mouth moving but I couldn't hear a thing.

When the world looked normal again, I could hear properly, and noticed that I was getting an absolute earful about being a fucking stupid bastard from Death himself. The grim reaper was giving me a well-deserved bollocking.

Then when my vision cleared up a bit more, Death suddenly started looking more like an old Cambridge professor in his gown on the way to a formal dinner.

I didn't utter a word of protest. You do not argue back to the Reaper, especially when it was your own stupidity that got you into the situation in the first place.
(calamarain just invented dehydrated water, Thu 12 Feb 2009, 20:06, 1 reply)

Top tale!
:)
( DUMBLONDE is a rubber lover girl, Wed 18 Feb 2009, 15:37, closed)