Dear Editor,

The small narrow hill going up to our school: trees line the sides of it casting shadows that create the patches of ice. You can see the rolling Colorado mountains from a
distance in the background and the blue sky peeking out from the clouds most days.
That steep, steep hill. It amazes me the school buses have no problem making it up even without the ice.

Oh, the ice.

The slick sheet of ice lines the right side of it. It takes home on the cold pavement. I couldn’t even remember how long it’s been there. But every day as I began to make the right turn and hazard down the hill my heart raced, praying I don’t slide into the car in front of me. As the school bus goes up the hill and we are one foot away from each other, I slowly press my brakes to slow down before I go over the thick patches of ice on the road.

Finally, as I approach the bottom, I can stop holding my breath and my hands release their tight grip on the steering wheel. “I made it!” I think to myself letting out a big sigh.
I’ll hope that tomorrow I can make it down without any problems as I continue my
journey home. Maybe in the spring when the snow will start to melt and shadows from the trees will shift, and the sun will shine down on the ice and forever banish it until next winter. Or maybe the maintenance people will go at it with ice salts and ice picks.

All we can do is hope.

Sincerely,

Aspen McGill

MSHS student in Creative Writing

[email protected]