[stylist] new writing prompt

[Brad Dunsé]

The bulky clothes reminded me of the Christmas 
Story where Ralphy's  little brother couldn't put 
his arms down ahah. We use to do the round saucers and innertubes.

Brad



On 2/3/2012  02:40 PM Barbara Hammel said...
>Hey, for once it's not a poem! SLEDDING Erin 
>couldn't feel the coldness of the dented metal 
>saucer sled she held in her mittened hands, but 
>she knew it was. Her housemother said it was ten 
>degrees, colder than it was yesterday when Anna 
>got her tongue stuck on it. Why did little kids 
>always have to try that? She'd gotten her tongue 
>stuck to the window frame on the bus a couple of 
>years ago which taught her that lesson. Erin set 
>the sled down at the top edge of the first of 
>three hills behind the Old Hospital building. 
>She sat down on the sled and pulled her booted 
>feet out of the foot-deep bank and folded them 
>Indian-style. She fumbled with the rope handles 
>before she finally got her hands tucked in them. 
>Then rocking herself back and forth, she finally 
>propelled the sled forward. The sled made a 
>squeaking sound as it began to pick up speed. By 
>the time it reached the level before the second 
>hill, it was whooshing along. The second hill 
>gave her more speed and she practically flew 
>over the level before the third hill. Going down 
>the third hill, the snow sprayed in her face as 
>she rushed along. She almost felt butterflies in 
>her stomach going down that hill. She sped 
>across the flat ground and as the sled began 
>it's ascent toward the street, Erin tipped into 
>the snow on purpose. It didn't matter to her if 
>it wasn't a busy street; it was wrong to play 
>there and she wasn't going to do it, even if by 
>accident. As she wiped the snow out of her face, 
>she laughed with abandon, as only a child can. 
>That was exhilarating! She couldn't wait to get 
>to the top and do it again. Just as she got to 
>her feet, Emily slid into her and knocked her 
>back down. She was glad the snow was deep. For 
>the second time she wiped the snow out of her 
>face, and struggled to gain her footing. Three 
>pairs of jeans made it hard for her to bend her 
>knees and two shirts and her bulky winter coat 
>made moving her arms hard. The two extra pairs 
>of socks were keeping her feet warm but her 
>pants had come untucked and snow was now inside 
>her right pant leg. Through her two pairs of 
>knitted mittens she again had a difficult time 
>grasping one of the ropes so she could pull the 
>sled. The snow was deep but Erin was glad it had 
>so recently fallen. For, even though she had to 
>flounder through the deep drifts up the fairly 
>steep hills, it wasn't icy like it would be once 
>sled and foot tracks were worn into them. 
>Barbara Poetry is an echo, asking a shadow to 
>dance. -- Carl Sandburg -----Original 
>Message----- From: Barbara Hammel Sent: 
>Wednesday, February 01, 2012 12:38 PM To: 
>stylist at nfbnet.org Subject: [stylist] new 
>writing prompt Even though tomorrow is 
>Groundhog’s Day which will set hearts yearning 
>for spring, we haven’t had much winter here in 
>the midwest and I’m longing for a bit of 
>it.  Tell about your favorite thing to do during 
>this time of cold. Barbara Poetry is an echo, 
>asking a shadow to dance. -- Carl Sandburg 
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Brad Dunsé

"If you really want to do something, you'll find a way...
If you don't, you'll find an excuse." --Unknown

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