Curbing

We drove into the snow plowed up on the sidewalks in her neighborhood. We called it "curbing." Her car wasn't nice or new and we could beat it up. Not fast, but not slowing down, just ramming into the curb. It was fun, and we would laugh. You find things to do in winter, moved on from snowmen and forts. It was our high school way to play in the snow.

It was a big storm the night before, a lot of accumulation. The pushed up snow reached your waist, perfect for curbing. We drove into one, we drove into another. On the third we got stuck, had to dig our way out. It was a sign we probably should have taken. But we wanted to do one more, the snow was too good to pass up. So we did one more. What's one more?

 

We didn't see them but we heard the screams. We didn't see them but we saw the one running out. Stop, stop, stop, please, my friend, my friend, stop. We didn't see the hole for the door, or the holes for the windows. We didn't know it was a fort. We were all just trying to have fun.