Skiing

I feel like I'm in a snowglobe as I leisurely ski down the slope. The icicles hanging off the green tree branches, the early morning sun, the soft, gently falling snow...it just all seems too perfect! I speed up as I go over the next rising hill, my skis falling down the steep other side of the slope, wind starting to knife through my hair, my helmet, the seemingly thin layers of my jackets underneath my ski coat. I tuck and speed up even more, savoring the feel of going fast-maybe even faster then I've ever gone before. By now the wind is roaring at my ear, snow stinging my face and coating my goggles as I feel the rush of adrenaline and fear that I get from skiing this fast. I struggle to control my skis, going out of control. The next hill rises up and the drops down again, my skis seemingly leaving the ground and my stomach rising into my throat as the ground below speeds towards me. Suddenly, a person comes out of nowhere in front of me. I freak, trying not to hit them, and come to an abrupt stop, trying not to spin out, putting every single bit of my energy into stopping. I hear an angry yell as the person behind me realizes that they were almost hit by me. The wind stops howling and the harsh wind gets softer as I skid to a stop. Finally, I am all alone, lying on a soft hill of snow, and the snow that is gently falling gets illuminated by the perfect, sparkling, snowglobe-type sun.