My Pockets Are Filled With Rocks

Jane Tobias - Ecuador


June 1, 2015

I peeled out of the bicycle repair shop onto the busy road happy to be riding my bike again. After weeks of gray skies and unrelenting rain the sun emerged and the streets of Puyo were soaked in golden sunlight. I cruised down the street, blissfully humming to myself as I passed through clouds of car exhaust and avoided potholes in the road. I had forgotten how much I missed the sun.

I turned onto a side street and coasted down a small hill when, out of no where, four yapping dogs appeared behind me. They chased after me and I pedaled faster thinking I could outpace them. They barked, snarled, and nipped at my heels. I heard my own scream before I realized what was happening. I felt my skin tear and a sharp pain ignite my foot. I looked down and saw blood dripping from my ankle. Hijo de puta!” I shouted in fury. For a moment I was proud of myself ” Wow

Jane Tobias