Kind of Dangerous

The memory still haunts me. Sometimes when I sleep, I still see the blur of black and white. The malice in those bulging eyes.

Did I ever tell you about the time I was viciously attacked by a zebra?

Sea air

It’s a battle going for a ride. I have to take my bicycle apart, load it into the back of my small car, drive twenty minutes to the nature reserve, take my bike out of the car, and put it back together again. All of this for a 60 minute ride. The first ten minutes is on a tarred road, and then the fun starts: Up and down in the dust, baking in the sun, breathing in the hot air, only to break out into the sea mist at the beach. With the cool brine air filling my lungs with ozone- it was all worth it!

Ominous zebra

This day was different. I got as far as the tarred road. Blocking my path like a malevolent white picket fence was a rank of Zebra. The leader took a step toward me. Ominous. I immediately countered, swerving to the left, he reversed, I went right, another step- it was too late- I braked! Facing the beast, there was a moment. All was still. I backed off slowly, head low, right back to my car- dismantling my bike, frustrated- driving home, ignorant of the degree of danger I had been in. Until I googled zebra attacks.

With a 1908 Times headline: ‘HANDLER KILLED BY ZEBRA’ on my screen, I reflected on how close I’d come, and how my caution and natural instincts had saved my life.

Tommy