Me In Action
The walls flew by. I shot past everything fences, others, like a bullet. What should I do? The instructors voice was muffled by the wind streaming through my ears. My hair was being whipped around. But still I urged her on. Only alert for one word; whoa. Push, pull, push. I used it like a never-ending rhythm.
All the sudden it felt different yet I continued. It felt like flying. Then it came.
And with dread I pull back. There's always next week.
Article posted November 2, 2010 at 01:06 PM •
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