The Warning Bell
BY ALLIE REYNOLDS
The snow was falling heavily now. Laura rubbed her wrist, longing to be back in the safety of the ski lodge, warming her fingers around a mug of hot chocolate.
She brushed the flakes off her jacket and stood up, teetering for balance. Cautiously she side-slipped down the slope. The metal edge of her snowboard bit into the snow, sending little chips of ice spitting into the air.
The fog was getting thicker by the minute. “Can you go any slower?” Marcus said when she finally reached him.
Laura was close to tears. “How much further is it to the cable car?”
“How would I know?”
An elderly skier in a navy ski jacket appeared out of the fog. “Are you in need of help?” he asked.
