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My Bicycle Experience

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My first memory was riding my little tricycle in the parking lot below my family's apartment. It wasn’t a necessarily gloomy day, but there were clouds blocking my view of the blue sky. My mother was nearby watching me carefully as I played, doing her best to ensure that no harm would come my way.

I rode my tricycle in erratic circles, but eventually, I found something more entertaining to do. I started riding my tricycle over a water drain in the center of the parking lot. The ground was somewhat sloped around the drain, allowing me to gain some momentum. I devised a game trying to get across the drain without the wheels of my tricycle getting stuck. Every time I crossed the water drain, I happily said, "hang koi" (this meant water drain in Cantonese). Instead, my pronunciation was a bit off. I pronounced water drain “hung kuuuuu” instead, much to the amusement of my mother. Eventually, she tried to correct my pronunciation, but I stubbornly insisted that it was “hung kuuu.” To this day I still think that “hung kuu” sounds better.

I repeated riding my tricycle over the water drain until suddenly, the front wheel of the tricycle got stuck in the drain, causing it to tip to one side. The moment I lost my balance, fear made my stomach churn as gravity pulled me closer and closer to the hard black concrete. My knee hit the ground first and then the rest of my body followed.

“Yan! Are you ok?” My mother half cried half shouted with concern.

I responded by bursting into

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