This morning.

There's a moment, that split second when you're cycling down a winter street and the back wheel starts to slide. 

Black ice. Which you know exists, although it's invisible to the eye, or the eye in motion, anyhow. The only way to "see" it is to bike right onto it, which happens, both body and bicycle, with constant and terrible spontaneity.

It's never more than a millionth of a second, but the CLEAREST second. It's amazing in its clarity, actually. Completely untainted. Time somehow crunches because you are able to think the entire thought, despite the speed, EVERY time it happens. 

I know EXACTLY what's going on here, at this VERY moment. EXACTLY. Regarding the Actual Occurence there is no variation. The only relevant questions remaining are "how far will I slide, will it be into oncoming traffic, will people be able (or willing) to stop, will my clothes be intact, how big will the bruises be, and Why the Fuck do I continually insist on biking in a city with no bike paths in the wintertime?"

Yeah. Ain't life a metaphor.