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Red Blood
I scraped my knee against the concrete road while I was riding my bike because a blue sedan came out of nowhere with alarming speed and I was forced to ditch my bike and jump to avoid being hit. My blood now watered the grains of the road and my skin was open with scarlet liquid oozing out. I got up, but it stung like crazy, and even worse, pieces of the concrete were stuck to the wound. It hugged the under skin and stuck to the blood like glue. I limped to my house to grab a bandage. It hurt badly.
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This a tiny memoir, meaning that it is under 100 words, yet symbolizes relatable and descriptive scenes that can connect with many people in society.