Or, how to lose your dignity in one easy lesson
I hit the ground with a thud.
My body jarring on impact with the solid surface of the road.
I stumbled.
And tumbled.
And fell.
It was the mud that was the culprit.
Stepping off the road to let a car pass on the narrow lane.
I lost my balance as my boots sank into the soft mud of the verge.
I toppled.
I lay sprawled and undignified in the mud and puddles.
Don't laugh.
A hand reached out to pull me up.
My husband.
A look of concern on his face.
'Are you alright?'
I was winded, but unhurt, except for a throbbing where my head hit the road.
Possibly a few bruises will show themselves later.
But no bones broken.
I told him I was fine.
Shaken.
But fine.
What hurt most was my loss of dignity.
My clothes were filthy; my jeans, my coat, my gloves all caked with muck.
I turned round to go home; ending the walk before it had hardly begun.
Luckily we were the only two about - no one else to see my fall from grace.
How embarrassing that would have been.
I have an irrational fear of falling.
Always have had.
The ground is unyielding; hard; and it hurts when you make contact.
The air forced out of your body with a grunt.
No, not dignified at all.
But, no harm done.
Just a dent in my pride.
It could have been worse.
Elaine
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