I tried to wallow out across the thin, marble-like ice, only to stumble. I quickly grasped the bar surrounding the rink, clutching it like a lifeline. I was never much of an athlete, and had no clue how to ice skate. My friend who had offered to help me learn had ditched me to hang out with the boy she liked.
I found myself starting to panic.
Until a boy skated expertly over to me.
He stuck out his gloved hand and smiled.
“Need some help?”
There was something she’d always enjoyed about the feel of the wind on her face, blowing her hair. She loved the speed, the momentum. When she took to her skateboard she felt that she could fly.
I once had a turtle named Skater. It was a stupid name, but it matched his siblings’ names: Vader and Gator. Skater and Gator both died pretty quickly, but Vader is still alive today, several years later.
Skater and surfer culture is big here in Florida. In high school, I was attracted to the skater crowd. I had a boyfriend Dan in high school that skated with his friends a lot, always had to have the latest shoes and skinny jeans, this was back in the mid 2000s.
He walked slowly down the road. Dancing behind him was a long lengthy shadow that elevated his desire to be different. Maybe the best people notice shadows first , he wondered to himself.
I wish I had the skill to be a skater. It looks like a lot of fun, but I have trouble just walking so moving on wheels and doing tricks is way beyond my skill level. I tried it once and when I fell I cracked my tail bone — not fun at all; I enjoy sitting.
He was a tall guy with a skateboard in his arm. He put it down on the ground and stepped on it with one foot, the other pushes him off and he’s off travelling down the street. The crowd splits before him as he rides through the town, his hair whipping in the wind.
Skating on the edge a mental break down. It’s so sweet, knowing I can balance here. It may scare you, but don’t fret. I’ll be make it to the end like this.
I tried to wallow out across the thin, marble-like ice, only to stumble. I quickly grasped the bar surrounding the rink, clutching it like a lifeline. I was never much of an athlete, and had no clue how to ice skate. My friend who had offered to help me learn had ditched me to hang out with the boy she liked.
I found myself starting to panic.
Until a boy skated expertly over to me.
He stuck out his gloved hand and smiled.
“Need some help?”
There was something she’d always enjoyed about the feel of the wind on her face, blowing her hair. She loved the speed, the momentum. When she took to her skateboard she felt that she could fly.
I once had a turtle named Skater. It was a stupid name, but it matched his siblings’ names: Vader and Gator. Skater and Gator both died pretty quickly, but Vader is still alive today, several years later.
Skater and surfer culture is big here in Florida. In high school, I was attracted to the skater crowd. I had a boyfriend Dan in high school that skated with his friends a lot, always had to have the latest shoes and skinny jeans, this was back in the mid 2000s.
He walked slowly down the road. Dancing behind him was a long lengthy shadow that elevated his desire to be different. Maybe the best people notice shadows first , he wondered to himself.
I wish I had the skill to be a skater. It looks like a lot of fun, but I have trouble just walking so moving on wheels and doing tricks is way beyond my skill level. I tried it once and when I fell I cracked my tail bone — not fun at all; I enjoy sitting.
He was a tall guy with a skateboard in his arm. He put it down on the ground and stepped on it with one foot, the other pushes him off and he’s off travelling down the street. The crowd splits before him as he rides through the town, his hair whipping in the wind.
Skating on the edge a mental break down. It’s so sweet, knowing I can balance here. It may scare you, but don’t fret. I’ll be make it to the end like this.