A gust of wind hit me full force as I exited Trader Joe’s. I wasn’t surprised, though. It had been blustery all day.
My first inkling that it would be a windy day was during my morning commute. I grasped the steering wheel tightly after I felt a strong gust push my car towards the lane to the right. Good thing I drive in the slow lane, I thought.
Throughout the school day, I could see the neighborhood fir trees bowing and swaying. I have a windowless room, but can see outside through the 6th grade locker room. Teachers with windowed rooms commented how distracted the ids were by each mighty gust. I was grateful for my lack of windows.
I drove home from school, gripping the steering wheel tightly once more, knowing I should anticipated wind gusts. The forecast called for snow and ice overnight so I stopped at Trader Joe’s just in case we had a snow day the following day. And that brings me back to Trader Joe’s exit.
I walked to my car and opened the trunk to put in my groceries. It’s the sort of thing you do mindlessly because you’ve done it a million times. This time was different, though. A gust of wind caught the trunk lid just right, send it down on my forearm. I stifled a cry and squeezed my eyes shut to hold back the tears. I was surprised to see no mark when I opened them.
By the time I got home there was a bump, but no discoloration. That came on slowly.As the bump receded, the discoloration developed.
Five days later, it is fading to that sickly, yellowy post-bruise color. Good thing it wasn’t any worse, I keep thinking.
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