EXCERPT from S’no Story Like A True One by Dennis Dunnam (in VIVAcini! August 24th)

I carefully watched how others negotiated getting on
the chair and felt an unmitigated pride of accomplishment
as I was swept up, skis airborne and my butt fi rmly planted
on this park bench hanging precariously from a stick.
It was a heady ride to the top, skiers schussing under my
feet—the trees becoming increasingly surreal until at the
top they were positively phantasmagorical snow creatures,
streamlined uphill by the fierce prevailing winds.
I noticed this mostly in the very intense fi ve seconds
between the time my skis touched the top of the mountain
and my face was submerged into the waiting snow
mound—wisely placed there to keep fools like me from
continuing our forward momentum over the side—which
would precipitate great inconvenience and expense in
recovering our bodies.