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Laughter of a Crash
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Laughter of a Crash The sun was faintly shinning through the clouds on an early February morning. A light snowfall was dribbling down on the trees like powdered sugar on a waffle. Birds were chirping, children were laughing, and the sound of skiers shredding down the slope was in the air. My good friend Este and I had been snowboarding for a couple of hours, going through every possible trail at the resort. We were the best of friends. He was my snowboarding companion. We would go riding every weekend practically. Going through trees, around enormous boulders, racing people, and seeing exactly how fast we could get down the mountain were just some of the tasks we were accomplishing. We were having the time of our life. Everything seemed to be going so well. While sitting on the snow-filled chair lift, anxiously waiting to reach the top of the mountain, I saw an arrangement of mounds that appeared to be jumps. I didn’t know exactly what they were or what purpose they served. Through the trees I saw something moving. A young snowboarder had popped out from the mist and was headed right for the mounds of snow. Such speed and agility were with the rider as he soared down the hill. “Did you just see that Este? That guy just jumped off one of those gigantic heaps of snow. He must have been at least fifteen feet high in the air.” It was the most miraculous sight I had ever seen in my young life. It seemed as if the rider had no fear of what was happening or what could possibly happen.
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