Two days ago I fell through the crack between the subway car and the platform. Yes I did. So much so that two (large) men hoisted me up and out before my brain could account for what had actually just happened. I was stepping off the train backwards (rush hour makes for some awkward strap-hanging!) and boom! There I was, up to my waist in subway car and subway platform.
Mind the freaking gap!
But here's the rub: at the time I wasn't hurt (except of course embarrassed to no end and badly stained with subway dirt), but I knew I hit my knee on the platform. And today, 48 hours later, "no more stain, just the pain" – my knee still hurts! I don't understand how a little subway "love-tap" could cause me to feel it (considerably) all this time later.
And yet it does. C'est la vie? More like c'est l'arthritis.