and he lay still allowing every muscle to relax until he verified that the various painswere not serious. Time became relevant again as his body stabilized and his mindrebooted.“Are you alright?” Patricia’s voice expressed her impatient concern.Roger was slow to respond, but finally rolled his head to look up over the hood of the small car. “Huh?”Patricia was already awkwardly standing, so she hinged her long, slender, bare legsaround the steering wheel, and stepped out of the car ignoring the door. She scurried tothe front, and peered across the bicycle at Roger’s still immobile body. “I said are youalright?” But there was humor and suspicion in her voice now. Her head swiveled aroundtaking in her surroundings, the business, the bicycle, and Roger. Her eyes closed, her facetransformed with a grimace, and she seemed to diminish in size as the humor drainedfrom her expression. “Oh no! You’re Roger Dunn, aren’t you?”Roger turned his head to take in the woman. He noticed that she sported a goldentan on the skin not covered by the loose shorts and frilly partially buttoned blouse.“Ahh… yeah.” He grumbled as he disentangled himself from his bicycle, and slowly gotto his feet. He flashed her an obviously insincere smile, and inspected his bicycle for damage.“You were going the wrong way you know.” She pointed with her thumb at theone-way sign over her shoulder.“Huh! Oh.” He lamely admitted the legitimacy of her statement with a curt nod,and pushed his bike to the rear door of his business, which was only a few feet away. Heremoved his slender camelback backpack and recovered his keys from its small pocket.He stubbornly refused to show the embarrassment he felt. For a non-injury spill, he hadlay there far too long, and he had been in the wrong as well. He had not been watchingwhere he was going, and going the wrong way in the one-way alley. He felt angry, butnot with himself. He was angry with her for making him admit his errors. Somethingabout her irritated him. He didn't know who she was, and he was sure that he didn't wantto know. He couldn't decide what it was about her that incensed him, but she enflamedhis emotions just the same.“I’m Patricia Alba, Trish.” She offered her hand with an ingratiating smile. “Iwrote you a letter concerning Flights of Fancy”. Patricia was used to her beauty openingmany doors. She didn't normally use it, but she did appreciate its typical effect. This time,however, her aura seemed not to have its usual effect.He looked at her hand, but both of his were full. “Flights a Fancy?” He mutteredwithout recollection. He was subconsciously intent on not liking the person who hadeclipsed his pleasant morning, despite her attractive, healthy appearance, and her friendlydemeanor.“Yeah, We want you to compete in the hang gliding events.” She prompted,smiling and tilting her head.