The sled whizzed down the hill like it was ice. The wind whipping in his face, his red cheeks
burning from the cold, his eyes squinting from the sun glaring off the snow. He felt like he was flying. He rushed towards the bottom of the hill
where the snowbank loomed. Oh, no! He was going too fast, no time to brake, his
only choice was to wipe out. The
snowbank was too hard to slam into. He
knew he had to throw himself off the sled but every time it was so hard to
force his body to cooperate. His heart
thundered in his chest. He was running
out of time. It was now or never. He clutched the sides of the sled and threw his
weight to the right. He wobbled but it
wasn’t enough, he was still racing to his doom!
Panic started to rise up. He
threw himself as hard as he could and for a second thought it wouldn’t
work. Then SMOOSH! He tipped over and tumbled across the snow
before landing face first in the cold, white fluffiness. The sled smacked into the snowbank and
bounced back. That was AWESOME!
“Now boarding Flight 889 to Maine.”
“Gary, come on.”
Sarah yelled to her little brother.
“We’re boarding now.”
“Yes!” Gary
grabbed his bag and ran to catch up. “I’ll
be sledding in no time.”
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