I could have been dead.

I tripped and fell this morning.

Now, this would hardly be considered surprising because people trip and fall all the time. The difference is I fell in my bathroom. Which I have been using at least twice a day for the past 15 years.

It wasn’t even because the floor was slippery and therefore I slipped. I had just finished my shower and like the past 10,920 (bare minimum figure) times like how I’ve always done, wanted to cross the threshold of the shower screen to towel myself dry (hope I’m not scarring you with multiple mental images), and then BOOM!, I found myself on the floor.

Everything happened so quickly I didn’t even have time to think nor react. I fell with my knees taking most of the impact, followed by my right elbow and I don’t know where else.

What I do know was being face to face with the porcelain throne. A whole two inches. I thank whoever up there for not cracking my skull open.

What sounded like an explosion or a boom taking down a building obviously sounded like a feather falling to my brother. He did not stir one bit.

If I really knocked myself unconscious on the toilet bowl during the fall, I would probably be up there somewhere with Michael Jackson or down there with Hades. No one else at home uses that bathroom but me (unless it’s a big crisis like needing to pee immediately or everything would flow from one’s ears and nostrils and the other bathroom happened to be occupied).

And I’d probably only be found if I started rotting with maggots eating me up. I’m thankful that other than a few massive bruises on my knees and arms, I’m still alive and kicking.

It hurts a little when I walk though, and it hurts more when I get laughed at. People whom I’ve told; my siblings, my colleagues went hysterical when I told them about it. They think it’s hilarious that I managed to trip over something that wasn’t built yesterday and I’ve been stepping over for years and years. Where is the love people?

I can’t imagine wearing my work clothes over the next few weeks when the bruises will appear in their techni-coloured glory. I own a total of two pairs of pants and I only wear them as last resorts. All I own are dresses and skirts. Sighpie.

Some of my kinder relatives told me to rub them bruises as it will lessen the pain. I cannot do it. They are tender to the touch. Let me go find a piece of bark to bite on while I get someone who has been waiting a long time to inflict pain on me to get this job done.

I still am not sure if I should cry from the pain or laugh at the absurdity of it all. And I’m extremely sorry those maggots missed the opportunity of having the buffet of their lives.



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