You’re In

Piss smacked the asphalt in his wake as we skated into a stretch of the bike path moonlight and street­lights couldn’t reach. A thud and “fuck!” came from the dark­ness ahead; some­one had made an abrupt introduc­tion with the ground. His pee-trail jumped and drew wet jagged peaks as he belly laughed at our friend, the source of the thud, writhing and curs­ing in front of us. He con­tinued to laugh until his wheels hit the same water­ing hose snaking across the path our friends had, pitch­ing him into air, dick in hand, urine scrawl­ing jum­bled cur­sive cries into the night.