Must have been elsewhere
I tripped going down the stairs this morning and scraped my knee like I was riding my bike after school. Fitting, though, since what I was wearing looked like my uniform from Catholic school. I probably scraped that place a thousand times over the years in various ways in various circumstances, the familiar sting from abrasions from a slide tackle or from being tackled, from mistimed leaps from playground swings and monkey bars. Scars encircle the knee like orbiting crescent moons. It’s amazing how resiliant the skin is there, it always comes back, perhaps a little harder, perhaps a little pale. Yet it remains.