So this is a thing i just wrote for english, we had to write two narratives with one theme, its kind of shitty but i like the message and just thought i would post
Five minutes and counting. Patience was never my thing.
Six minutes and counting. The ‘closed’ rope hung in front of me, a tantalizing boundary between the ground I stood on now, and heaven.
Seven minutes and counting. I can’t take this much longer, I have to find a way around this jail cell of a rope.
Eight minutes and counting. I see other ropes falling; it’s only a matter of time before mine falls too.
Nine minutes and counting. Why the hell is there still a rope in front of me?
Ten minutes and counting. TAKE THIS ROPE DOWN!
Eleven minutes. A ski patroller comes to remove my rope. Before he gets a chance to take it down, “Can I just duck the rope?” I ask.
“Go for it,” he says. I duck the rope with my brother, Roger, and a crowd of ten other skiers. We all lift our heavy skis out of the deep powder, taking long awkward duck steps to the top of the run. I reach the goal second, close enough for me. I survey the kingdom before me, a fantasy world of untouched, pure, perfectly white snow, with my goal, a 20 foot cliff aptly named the nose, placed perfectly in the middle of this face.
A push off the top and all I can see is white. Every turn sprays snow in my face as I ski towards my cliff. With every breath I inhale snow. The white shield on my goggles is becoming increasingly thicker with each second. I’m trusting faith to put me on the top of the nose. I can feel the ground beneath me flatten and I know it is about to happen.
The ground falls out from beneath me and for a brief moment time freezes in a white cloud. I am suspended in air, my mind is blank except for a sense of euphoria that is caused by the perfection of this moment, where nothing matters but skiing powder, and conquering the nose. My grades, my girlfriend, my family, and everything are all absent from my mind and replaced by this happiness. Either that, or it is caused by the lack of oxygen to my brain from inhaling only snow.
I begin to move again and my feet fall into the pillow-y snow that blankets the ground. There is only one thing to do, and involuntarily I throw my hands in the air in a fit of joy and celebration.
The rest of my day doesn’t matter, the rest of my week doesn’t matter, hell, the rest of my month doesn’t matter. Whenever anything bad happens, I will have this perfect moment all seen through the lens of my snow caked goggles.
The moments when I am most happy, there is nothing on my mind. It doesn’t matter that I failed a test, got in a fight with my best friend, or have to pay a speeding ticket, in those moments the world is right, and they are never forgotten.
As I approach the lip of the jump, I put both of my hands by my ears. I fling them to my waist with all of my strength and begin to tumble through the air. I look through my legs in an effort to spot my landing. A short mid-air prayer and I can visualize myself landing my first ever skiing front flip.
I see my landing! My feet are back beneath me, and I can land this one I’m positive. That is, I’m positive until my ski tails dug into the snow. I eject from both of my skis and fly face first towards a tree. I narrowly miss the tree trunk, but collide quite hard with some branches and end, as usual, face to snow.
I jump up ecstatic with my jump. “Did you see that?” I say, “I almost did a front flip.” My childish stunts consume my thoughts and I am left floating on cloud nine.
How could life be any better when snow covers my face, and I don’t have a care in the world?
Sparknotes: life is way better when you don't think so much and just ski
