Monday, 6 March 2017
Cathy's Published Camp Writing
The Flying Fox
Could I do it? I asked myself, as I stood there, watching everyone else slowly drift across the multi-coloured lake, banging on a green cushion that looked as hard as stone. As I clipped the heavy metal gear on myself in fear I slowly went up the wooden stairs.
It was even higher than I had imagined. I only just stepped off the platform an inch but my weight brought me down. I hid my face in my hands. But as I slowly opened my eyes, I saw beauty. The lake was glittering under the bright, hot sun. I was free! Almost airborne! The loud sound of the thick, metal wire didn’t even matter at all!
Suddenly, I saw the large, green cushion moving closer and closer. I braced myself for impact. I closed my eyes. I felt something. Something soft and gentle. I opened my eyes. No way! That was the cushion! I marched up the hill, proud of myself. Surely I can do it again, I thought.