Revenge

Revenge

A chill wind blew children’s voices across the sledging hill.

Jason sneered, “Jeannie, you are so Ohio!”

From my spot at the head of the line, I watched our grade school bully grip his sled in mitten’d hands. He’d stolen my turn twice already. He thought I was the weakest link. No more!

“Jason, you are a bowl of ick dog water!”

Roaring like an oncoming polar bear, he charged toward me. Death blazed in his eyes, but he was too focused on his target. He failed to notice my movements. Like a hockey stick, I swung my sled. And just like the Ohio he said I was, I missed. But it didn’t matter.

He lost control, swerved over the edge, rolled and slid, leaving a trail of ruined white drifts.

Only then did I take my perfect turn down the hill.

WC: 142