The motorcycle lay on the sidewalk, the side in contact with the ground busted up, the front tire bent as if a giant had pinched it between his thumb and forefinger.
The short faring had broken off when the rider had passed through it after being launched off the bike when it came into contact with the rear of the car that had shot out in front of the motorcycle.
Roughly twenty feet from the mangled bike the rider lay on his back, his left arm and shoulder throbbing from the impact with the ground. Voices, some reassuring, some just making comments or observations, could be heard from the crowd that had gathered around him.
"Try not to move an ambulance is on the way. " "I saw the car that went through the light and I think I got most of the license plate number." "Thank god you were wearing your helmet." "The police are on their way, they should be here pretty soon." "Can you move your legs? Do you feel anything broken?"
He couldn't really hear what anyone was saying. He wanted to sit up but there were a couple of people holding him down. Someone had removed his helmet but he couldn't seem to focus on any one person. He thought to himself that he really got his bell rung and he wished his head would stop ringing.
It seemed like an hour passed before the ambulance showed up, but he was told it took less than ten minutes for the paramedics to get to him, being as the accident occurred less than 4 miles from the hospital.
That, the Doctor told him, was what probably saved his arm, if not his life.
*Based on an accident I once witnessed.
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