Yesterday I took a dive down a flight of stairs at Vauxhall tube station. I wasn't paying attention and tripped over some woman's rolling suitcase and was suddenly in flight. I'm a bit sore and bruised, but fortunately relatively unharmed. Even more fortunately, no one was in my path - I could have killed someone.
I was thinking today that it's a shame that one doesn't really remember the sensation of being mid-air on those rare occasions that our bodies are hurled into flight. I remember hitting the ground and feeling the wind knocked out of me, but don't remember what it was like to have body and feet off the ground for those few nanoseconds. Shame that.
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