A Woman Lost by T. B. Markinson

you. Before, you would have made the connection right away and gone on and on about it.” He made limp-wristed circular movements in the air.
    “Don’t you mean Sarah?”
    “Nope. I mean Maddie. You have been so different these past few weeks‌—‌more relaxed, happier, and easier to talk to. You’ve always opened up after some coaxing, but now you don’t need any prodding.”
    “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
    My phone beeped. A message flashed up on the screen. “Oh great, Sarah wants me to have dinner with her mom tonight.” I paused before sending a text back.
    “Are you going?”
    “Don’t see how I can say no. She had to put up with my family last night. Besides, her mom is nice.” I shook my head. “You know me, I just hate family dinners … I’m not good at things like that. Geez, Sarah and I hardly go to dinner, let alone with other people.”
    “And you say my marriage is bad.”
    I chuckled. “I guess people who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones.”
    “Especially you! You wouldn’t hit a thing. How is it you never played softball as a kid? Don’t all dykes play in college? Sorry, I mean Les-Bi-Ans .”
    His joke caught me by surprise, and chai almost streamed out my nose. It burned like hell.
    “Have you been drinking long?” He smirked.
    After coffee with Ethan, I decided to hit the Poudre River bike trail. One thing I love about Colorado is that even in late October the weather can be gorgeous. I looked at the mountains to see if any clouds were rolling in, but all I saw was clear blue sky.
    For the first ten miles, the vibrancy of the red, orange, and yellow leaves contrasting the lazy river awed me. I had always loved being surrounded by nature. Since it was late in the season, there weren’t too many people out on the trail.
    I pulled off the trail at my favorite spot and sat by the river. Sunlight glittered on the ripples of the slow, meandering stream. This time of year, before the winter snow melt, it was more like a dribble. In the spring, it gushed.
    Picking up a smooth stone, I tried my best to skim it all the way across. It jumped twice and then sank to the bottom. Infuriated, I tried again. Skip. Skip. Then nothing. I had seen countless fools skip stones here. Why couldn’t I?
    “Lizzie, stop it.” My words floated through the thin air.
    I picked up another stone, lined it up carefully, and released. Jump. Jump. Then I saw it no more. I laughed mirthlessly at my ineptitude.
    Giving up, I sat there, contemplating life, love, and the kind of stuff one thinks about when sitting next to a river, until I noticed the weather beginning to change. A strong gust of wind sent my bike clattering to the ground. My metal water bottled popped out of its holder and clinked as it rolled over the rocks to stop at the river’s edge. The weather could change fast in Colorado at this time of year. Clouds had already started to roll in over the foothills.
    Righting my bike, I then jumped on and started the trek home. The wind came in gusts, and when it did, I had to use all of my strength to stay on the bike. At points, the wind picked up my front tire and turned it perpendicular to the rest of the bike. Colorado weather‌—‌you never knew what was going to happen. The saying was, “If you don’t like the weather, wait ten minutes and it will change.”
    After struggling for over an hour, I finally made it back to my apartment. As I lifted my bike up onto my shoulders to carry it up the flight of stairs to my apartment, a familiar voice behind me said, “Only you would be crazy enough to go for a ride in this wind.”
    I turned my head. “It was beautiful when I left … no wind at all.”
    “Oh my gosh, Lizzie, you’re bleeding.” Maddie sounded concerned.
    I looked down. Blood dripped from my shin down into my sock. “Yeah, a tree branch hit me. I tried avoiding it, but as you can see”‌—‌I gestured to my shin‌—‌“I wasn’t