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He began by pointing to his neck, in particular, the scar. It lay half an inch below his mandible and was as thick as a thin wire with small ridges like that distinctive of a hospital heartbeat scanner. I had always seen it, though I never paid it much attention as it faded through the years. Even with his nicely tanned skin that was almost a bronze, the scar was still darker. However, to a trained eye the dark line could still be made out as it wrapped along the left portion of his neck. His neck was wrinkled a little, some of the skin sagging as he spoke, his jaw moving a million miles per hour though not out of frustration or rage, but out of excitement. His five o’clock shadow had set in, the gray whiskers protruding from the skin. …show more content…

But today would be different. He rode along a cow pasture bordered by a tree line. The trees strong and mighty swayed in the wind on the hot summer day. He moved onward, shifting with the classic baaaadap baaaadap that can be heard from dirt bikes zooming past the trees. He was flawless. Suddenly Wham! He was caught by his neck, stopped ever so suddenly by a force he could not identify. He landed flat on his back with a thud, knocked completely off the dirt bike by the sudden blow. It was like he had been clotheslined by a bully during recess, a feeling he knew all too well. Being a young boy in Madison, he did not always fit in. He preferred solitude and calmness young children may refer to as being “weird.” Riding was his escape. Something he knew well and where nobody could catch him. A realm where man and machine coexist, and become one force. He reached for his helmet, which had been partially pulled off his head by the force of the accident. As he reached, he felt something sticky and thick on his neck. He attempted to hold his hand in front of his face, but it was no use. It was as if all of his strength had been zapped away. Exasperated and still in shock, he began to look around. There was a throbbing in his neck like he had never felt before, the pain rushing through his body. The roar of the dirt bike had died away as it lay 20 feet further down the trail, still caught in the barbed wire fence. The barbed wire fence? How had it gotten

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