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Sara Harari Black IceShe slipped on the black ice. It tripped her up and she went sliding. She collected her senses. wiped herself off readjusted her hat She turned to look at it. smooth no cracks at all not one. The perfect surface reflected the sun, shining it right into her eyes. blinking at the light, she turned and gazed beyond. On the way home, she noted the labyrinth of cracks coating the once smooth surface, shattering its once cool demeanor.
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Copyright © 2002-2006 Student Publishing Program (SPP). Poetry and prose ©
2002-2006 by individual authors. Reprinted with permission. SPP developed and designed by Strong Bat Productions.
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