I left my house this afternoon for a bike ride. I rode down the hill and made a left onto Clove road.
Clove Road is a narrow two way street filled with speeding cars. I ride on the sidewalk to preserve my safety.
On my bike, I approached the telephone pole near the street’s corner.
“The area between that phone pole and shrubbery looks narrow,” I thought to myself.
My bike approached the gap. Going 15 mph.
As I reached the gap, my right bike handle hit into the telephone pole.
“Uh oh,” I thought.
My balance became compromised. I closed my eyes.
The entire bike fell to its left, causing me and the bike to land in the bushes.
I opened my eyes. I saw hundreds of green leaves. I turned my head to the right. I saw a teenage boy in a bathing suit crossing the street. I smiled so if he saw me he knew I was ok. He did not see me.
I rolled my body over. Picked up the bike.
My shoulder was scratched. Which was ok. I could get a new shoulder.
But my bike was broken. The chain fell off the track. I could never get a new bike. 
That was the end of my bike riding career.
I walked the bike up the hill. To my house. I threw the bike in the trash.
I saw the teenage boy who has passed by me before.
“Hey. Did you see me fall off my bike before?” I asked him.
He ran away screaming.
“I guess that’s a no,” I said.