This is a photo prompt for Madison Woods’s Friday Fictioneers. The only requirement for membership is the desire to write 100 words based upon your reaction. All are welcome, All are Judged.
The icy moguls were hidden under fresh powder. I had assumed that they would all send my knees to my chest, one after another, until I reached the base camp. The first hit sent loose powder into my face, happily received. The ice made a scraaaaaaape against the newly sharpened edge of my homemade skis. The ice beat the edge and my feet fell from under me. My hip bone felt the collision through the thermal underwear and ski-bibs. I got up, looked uphill. Done, I looked downhill, so far down, undone. No wedge, skis parallel, tips downhill, deep breath.