...on My Forehead

On Tuesday, July 19, 1988, I hit my head on the neighbor's porch. Yes, it was a Tuesday. Funny how we remember the meaningless details. I was 9. The day after was my friend's birthday and he was turning 11. I was wearing a red shirt and red shorts, so once I fell I'm told I was red from head to toe. I remember running to my house trying to figure out what happened; feeling around the wound I touched my skull. I recall that growing up I never remembered a lot of pain from that fall, I remember being sore and wearing a bandage after getting stitches, but if it hurt right after falling I must have just blocked it out from being shaken up.

phracktle phracktle
31-35, M
Feb 14, 2010