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Erin Popham
Georgia, USA
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REPORTS:
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A little below my right calve muscle I have this circle that you can barely see, but I know it's there. Believe it or not the day I received it was one of the best days. It was Fourth of July about three years ago. I wanted to continue the yearly ritual of going to a local park where a bunch of festivities always are being held on that particular day. I had finally annoyed my dad enough into taking me. I was so excited because we were going to ride the motorcycle to the park. That was my favorite thing, because I felt so liberated. I found it so ironic that I had made that same journey hundreds of times, but it didn't compare to the feeling of the hot air cooling in the wind as we practically flew through the air on that red Honda. The ten minute ride had been so nice. My dad slowed the motorcycle to the side of the entrance to let me off. I was so enwrapped with the enthusing ride I had just experienced that I forgot, yes it sounds silly, but I forgot how to get off of the motorcycle. For any one who's ridden before, you know what I mean. There is only one way to get off a cruiser, and believe me it's not the right side. On the right side located underneath the passenger seat is the exhaust pipe. Ouch, yes it hurt. For some reason while I left my dad to meet a friend, I never told him. Maybe I didn't want to taint the wonderful trip we had just had. Later that day the pale skin started to turn brighter than a tomato, then to a charred tomato. When my dad, the fire chief, saw it he declared it to be a second degree burn. Believe it or not, a little more than a year later I did the same thing. You would think I would learn how to get off the motorcycle.
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