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Crossing the icy slopes!

Updated: Feb 13

Place one foot forward, bend at the waist, and make a silent gesture of caution. Your eyes stare down at an endless glow of snow and icy mountains. The steel and metal, thin bars under your small feet ensure that the land is balanced and mystical. The other person who stands beside you is just as nervous and timid. All eyes are on the first individual who wishes to be last in line for the slopes. You brace your beating heart and glance back at the new friend. The seconds turn into minutes, and your cold body aches for a hot drink to melt away the bright skies. Some years ago, the same scenery gazed upon your frozen eyes, but this time, your numb tongue touched the top of the mouth.



A striking but gentle hand pushes you down the hill. Your blood boils because the invisible clock did not tick on the cold drum. It is painful to know that your friend might not have a better start. You do not think of his mistake of falling a precious soul to the mountains. A soft smirk wraps its snarl around your cold lips. You skim bravely among the dense breeze and brace for a new whirlwind upward on the higher slopes. Minutes later, you are calmly smiling at the bottom of the slopes. Time ticks by, and your friend decides to make a run at twelve feet high. He dives head over foot in the icy snow. Your first intentions are to run backwards and care for his cry for help. But you quickly remembered his earlier push, and your steps retreated toward a cabin for safety against the cold, harsh breeze.


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