“Well, this sucks.”
Blue tumbled with gray and cold slowly warmed. It was just Mike’s luck, and he blamed Leslie for talking him into it.
Resigned to a shorter afternoon than planned, he futilely pulled his broken ripcord until the green on the ground met the green in his eyes.
Ben Jackson is a father, blogger, student, teacher, martial artist, and majestically bearded. He lives in Natick, Massachusetts. You can read more of his writing at http://www.dadofthedecade.com.