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A few minutes after impact Joanna came running across the street.
“What happened?” she asked.
“I was thrown by the bull -- don’t tell me you missed it.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Look at my clothes.” I said, showing her my shirt and jeans.
“No, it’s true, Joanna,” said Lourdes who by then had gotten her voice back.

“I saw you go up and down but I thought the fence had broken or something,” Joanna said. “They wouldn’t let me across the street. They slammed closed the metal gate to the bar yelling ‘No, no, señora, you can’t go out there now señora it’s too dangerous’ -- it was all very Lorca-esque -- and then when I was finally let outside someone came over to reassure me ‘It’s OK señora, he’s not hurt’.”