Falling

I rode my bike to school the other day. Usually if the weather's good, this is the case. The other day was special, though.
Pedaling up the sidewalk up to my school, the sidewalk disappeared. A long pool of sand, similar to a track-and-field long-jump pit, lay in the sidewalk's place. Undeterred, I rolled on through the sand - almost.
Just before the pit finished, my bike's front wheel sank into the sand, slowing the bike to a halt in about half of a second. Bookbag hanging on my left side, my balance immediately shifted in that direction. At the same time, I noticed the sizeable gray pile of wet concrete. As my bike fell, I stuck out my left hand. The concrete gave way until I was wrist-deep.
I looked up, out in front of my school. No buses had arrived yet. As a matter-of-fact, nobody was around to witness this silly white man's folly.
I locked my bike up outside, went into the school, to the bathroom and washed my hand.