Unfortunately the temperature has fluctuated and at times it rises above freezing. This along with the enormous vehicular congestion and lack of emissions regulations makes for a lot of black sludge. This in turn covers stubborn black ice, which laces the ground unevenly. With precarious steps I work my way across the street looking both ways many times as the cars don’t bother slowing down in this anti litigious society. I realize halfway to school I forgot to bring my second drawing for the student exhibition today and resign myself to the return journey and a late start at sculpture. Being tired and a bit despondent at the notion of trekking an extra 30 minutes through the treacherous unsalted streets, I wonder how many old ladies have broken their hips this week. Just as I finish this thought I see a man with a peg leg hobbling down the road, not a prosthetic but a wooden peg. I half expect to see an eye patch, but just think “there go I but for the grace of. . .” just then I’m interrupted by the sliding sound of rubber on ice and then a crunch of metal and a moment later I process what I just saw. A bicyclist was hit and run over. He lies entangled in gears and spokes. The back tire looks like a huge dirty potato chip and I think the car went over his leg too. I go to help him up and stop, realizing I can’t communicate with him, can’t call an ambulance, and wouldn’t know how to say anything except “Excuse me, this man very bad.” If I could. Luckily others more suited to assist come to the man’s aid. I see the peg leg man looking too and wonder if he’s thinking “there go I but for the grace of . . .” I’m already late so I head home and get my drawing. When I come back to the spot I’m very relieved to see the bicyclist standing and talking to the motorist.