At the first bump on the path, April clenched her jaw and tightened her grip on the bars, bearing down. Deb would call that counterproductive, but she couldn’t help it. Doing a Jimmy at this stage of life? She couldn’t afford to break a hip.
Every muscle in her body was on high alert, and she seemed to attract every rock on the trail as she gained speed.
Frightening speed.
What was she doing?
What was she doing?Deb was waiting for her at the base, looking exhilarated. A younger version of her friend floated before her eyes.
But April couldn’t release the handlebar. Instead, her hands became claws on the old grips, impossible to tear loose as the wind rushed over her, forcing tears from her eyes into her hairline.
This is crazy, she thought. I’m a split second from a full-body cast.
