THE AVALANCHE

     Fear lurked about the skiing party like a permeating fog. Starting when the first roll of restless snow was heard, it gathered momentum and spread from mind to mind, quickened each heart in turn, until it had struck each person.

     Trapped in a narrow crevice on the mountain, the party fearfully awaited the great white terror. Their condition was hopeless; death was inevitable. The snow wanted to be free; any moment it would fall upon them. What was there to do? How can one tell a person not to fear when one's own anxiety is tearing at his heart?

     The fatal moment grew nearer; the people grew pallid with fear, then, it came. The snow descended so rapidly that their minds, their ability to think and comprehend, were obliterated. Then the mountain was quiet; the people were quiet. Fear had been dispelled, leaving calm repose on the mountain.

BY...            
Diann Miller         
'62