The Snowball

December 2, 2009
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The snowball strikes my face like a whip
The frigid flakes stick to my face as if I’m magnetic
I wrench off my warm black gloves, slam them down on the ground and wipe the icy snow off my frostbitten face
I jerk my head towards the source of the blow
My brother stands there; a wide grin on his face
I extend my hands into the ice-cold snow
My fingertips feel numb as the snow surrounds my fingers.
I lift my hands out of the snow, holding a mighty snowball
My brother’s expression changes rapidly
His eyes become wide, and his mouth drops
He turns to sprint away from the revenge that he knows I will have
His body moves, but his feet do not budge
I scamper up to him, tower over the body lying face flat in the snow, and I throw that mighty snowball right on his back
“That’ll teach him,” I announce to myself
The snowball will no longer travel my way

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