does the angelic face hovering above you as you lay on the brickwork path telling you exactly how to breathe feel all the more serene while a coverup begins around you? through the residual dregs of drunkenness, maybe you saw all that happened. an armrest goes missing in the nearby hedges. a fearful voice is muffled further away, on the phone trying to explain exactly where you are to a confused and sleep-deprived operator. a fourth person is missing—you might have heard the phone-person tell him to “go put it back and get back here,” with the force of command as silent shock and rage permeate her voice. some strangers walk by as the fourth returns—what an unconvincing cover-story he tells! how warm is the silvery reflective blanket when you truly need it? you hear attempts at ill-timed humor from some officers as you wait for the ambulance to arrive. perhaps you sense the urgent impatience of your friends. your favorite boots are ruined as the EMTs arrive, cutting them off of you, depositing you onto a stretcher, preparing you to disappear into the brightly-lit rooms from which you would not emerge entirely the same again. were you prepared to lie for the man who got you into this? to all legally concerned, you fell down the stairs. does a person fall down harder than a piece of machinery tips over onto their leg as they are thrown out, as a result of going around a corner at too-high a speed? do stairs often break both calf bones of a healthy young person? so chivalrous was he who stole keys to a golf cart to drive the three ladies back to their respective homes on campus in the frigid cold. nothing bad ever happens to him, not to someone so charming and handsome and recklessly daring!

what a short walk it could have been.