There was blood everywhere.
Her knees were bleeding. Her face was badly scratched , as well as her hands.
We were having a little fun. Her with her brand new skates and me on my tricycle.
I don't remember who's bright idea it was to hold on to the back and go down the big hill. From the scolding I got after, probably mine. And as you should have figured out, she let go.
From that moment on, I was deeply afraid of roller skates.
For the next decade, I refused to ever put them on my feet.
But love, okay, infatuation, took over.
The guy went roller skating every Sunday night at a nearby rink.
Conquer the fear, win the guy, right? Not exactly.
But I did become fairly good. Even became a rink guard and learned a few of the dances.
Met a different guy there. But that was sort of a "bloody" mess in the end too.