Ice

Shortish and sweetish

Tamara felt the ice beneath her.  It took her.  She was moving too fast to think of stopping, she gave in to the slide, unsure where she would end up.

She saw the wall grow rapidly in her sight, there was no way she was going to avoid it.  Realising her options were decreasing with every passing second she attempted a turn to the left, away from the looming barrier, to at least minimalise the impact with the encircling obstruction.  She was now regretting going all out, hell for leather.  The ice has wrested all hope of control from her.

The lights played across the ice, danced in her vision.  She started to spin.

Tamara dug her heels in and fell to the floor in a heap.  Legs splayed, she merely sat, skirt around her thighs, feeling the ice sting her skin.  Getting up gingerly, she placed a hand on her backside.  That’ll be bruised later, she thought.  She kept her head down, avoiding the watching people around the perimeter wall and headed for the exit as she counted the years since she’d last been ice-skating.

Author's Note

In this early stage of writing I'm just playing with the twist but at the same time keeping the story short and simple.