A Fly In The Eye

It's no bigger than a fruitfly but something has lodged itself square in the centre of Mike's eye and he's immediately blinded, ripped apart by searing pain, fluid gushing out of his left tear duct. And there goes the ride. A fantastic start to a much needed and longed for spin and blammo, a knat takes him down. He is undone by a speck of an insect. Knocked him on his ass. Mike unclips, frantically blinking his eye, trying to find the position where he's least in pain. Eye open, lid shut, both feel like there are shards of glass scraping across his eyeball like rusted out windshield wipers on his old Civic. He unscrews the lid of his water bottle and pikes forward from the waist, tilting his head to the sky like that wizened old crippled deaf man who rides the evening bus . Glug, glug, glug. Mike pours the ice cold water across his eyes, trying to keep them open so whatever has burrowed it's way inside can be flushed out. This is crazy. Mike can't believe the pain. A fly. A stupid fly has done this. Not in his mouth, oh no- everyone swallows flies on rides but Mike gets blinded. Underneath his Oakleys' too. Serves him right. Spend 300 bucks on fancy shades and what does it get him? Aerodynamic, silicone grip, shatterproof, polarized useless eye protection. Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuck! Ok, ok, it's starting to level off. Either that or his pain tolerance has increased. Or the water has numbed his face. Whatever. He just has to figure out a way to get back on the bike and backtrack the 25 kilometres home. Arghhhhh! Crap. Mike lifts his head, tries to blink and drops to a knee in ridiculous pain. Oh, she'll have a field day with this, Kristine will. Come pick me up, honey, I can't see cause there's a fly in my eye. After putting up with 45 minutes of pouting and passive aggressive dish washing she finally let him get on the bike and now. A whole lot of gloating in the foreseeable future. Fuck you, fly. That's what he has to say. Fuck. You.

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