Jessie pedaled with a disconnecteed feeling. He was pedaling hard and his muscles were numb from the waist down. He was keeping a steady pace moving up Lexington avenue at a steady clip of 32 MPH. Lexington Ave is a one way street that drives down hill into greenwich vilage. He had left a small one row bar at 23rd St. about five minutes ago. He was passing 73rd his eyes fixated on the two dim-lit lights off in the distance.

The lights were now separated and growning larger with the accompaning sound of a large blast of a car horn. Jesse swerved into a garbage can and skidded over the top on to the a side walk and into a sliding metal door covering a flower shop.

Jessie didn't stand up, he straightened himself into a fully seated position as a car wizzed by.

A moment passed as Jessie stared into the back side of the garbage can that he managed to not knock over. It is hard to gauge pain in the cold, but Jessie was sure of recieving a thug to the ribs underneath his arms. he felt a hard metal canister and pulled it out. Two red dots on a green can danced into his eyes. He pulled the tab on top of the can off. The warm liquid crackled in his dry throat. Jessie sat there for a while and set down the can. He pulled himself to a stand. Some how his bike had propped itslef up on the garbage cans durring the crash. It looked fine to him, so he got on and pedaled away from the empty can.