I was skiing at Jiminy Peak on a moderate difficulty path. It was my sister and I’s fourth time on that path since we came. I had already fallen down once there and flew into a couple who were trying to tighten their boots, so I asked my sister to always stay behind me to help me if I fall. This time, only a few seconds after we got off the lift, she blew ahead of me on her long skis. I tried calling for her, but she was already a half-mile ahead of me, so it was up to me to be cautious and not screw up. Up ahead there was an inescapable segment of moguls (tiny hills), and there was a steep curve downhill, meaning it would be near impossible to stop. I eventually reached the moguls, and riding them made me feel my legs had broken. After three bumps, something happened. I believe I flipped forward, and I felt like gravity had stopped working. The next thing I knew, I was face down in the snow and my left forehead was on fire. I could feel something warm flowing down my face and under my helmet, and I knew this wasn’t a normal fall. I started sobbing quietly, thinking I would just wait until I could muster the strength to get up. It’s a good thing I didn’t, and instead, a kind lady who was skiing past me slowed down when she heard my crying, and on closer observation, saw blood gushing from my head. I thought I would pass out from blood loss, but she helped take off my skis (which were facing outwards), so I could turn face up on the ground. Blood was forming in a small puddle underneath me. I eventually passed out and woke up in the resort hospital, wondering whatever happened.
Instructions: Write something creative, whether it’s a piece of flash fiction, a limerick poem, a memoir, or a letter to a friend… You have total control! Minimum: 250 words. Some ideas for what to write: Flash fiction Short story Chapter of a book Memoir Creative nonfiction Poem (haiku, balla...
Read moreShare
More Like This
Nathan Tse
In a little anthill, there lived a colony of ants. And in that colony, there was a special little
ant. Let’s call him Ant, with a capital A. Ant was actually a very, very average ant. He did
everything and anything a normal ant would do: carrying food, putting down food, going to get
more food, carrying food… While he might seem obsessed with food, he’s actually following
orders from the queen ant, just like a regular ant would.
Theo Li
A small rock named Bassultus (named after his rock type, Basalt) sat on the Grassy
Plains Over There (GPOT), a small park where children loved to play. Bassultus is a
rough basalt chunk with glowing orange eyes.
Helen An
If tomorrow I wake up and forget my childhood, I can only hope I don’t forget the person who
gave me a reason to remember it.
Benjamin He
Wailing, moaning, screaming. Always kicking up a ruckus as they destroyed homes,
wandered, or dragged people screaming into their hungry maws. They were always a nuisance,
but it seemed they were more active lately. The Asag stalked and patrolled sporadically, and
whether this was due to some natural cycle or some great cosmic influence was still unknown.
