Post by kate on Feb 12, 2010 23:06:54 GMT -5
Cory had mixed emotions about snow in New York City. On the one hand, everything was cold and dark and wet. The wind that carried the snow swirling around the tree trunks was bitter cold and stung your eyes. It was miserable.
On the other hand, it was a perfect opportunity for a city-kid snowball fight.
Cory grinned down at the snowball in his gloved hands, his cheeks red with cold and his lips chapped from the dry winter air. The snow was perfect this time of year for packing--it was wet and heavy, carried well and, when thrown with precision, could be the ultimate fighting weapon. Cory loved those kinds of games, anyhow. The ones where everyone chose sides and fired like crazy at the "enemy" with whatever weaponry was available. Snowball fights, dodge ball, capture the flag (go blue team!) were all games childish Cory could never get enough of.
So though he had mixed emotions about snow, those emotions were predominantly positive. When else in the calender year was it perfectly acceptable to throw frozen bits of water at people? Cory weighed the snowball in his hand, the grin on his face suddenly replaced by a look of intense concentration. "Watch this," he muttered to his left, narrowing his eyes for better visibility. Tongue caught between his teeth, Cory cocked his arm back, took aim, and threw the snowball. Hard.
His elbow lead with surprising force, followed by his arm and wrist, and quickly the snowball was whipped from his fingertips and sent rocketing across the open field. There it sank to the ground and sort of exploded, across the temporary barrier that marked off the red team's throwing point. "All the way across," Cory smirked, "and from back here. We're so winning this year, Sammy." Cory clapped the snow from his gloves and turned toward his friend.
Every year in Central Park, hundreds of locals came for the intense all-ages snowball fight. Cory and Sammy had made it kind of a tradition to be on the blue team, every year since they first met three years ago. Every year, the red team won. Every year. BUT NOT THIS YEAR.
The field was divided in half, and then halved again from there, each quarter roped off by blue or red rope. You weren't allowed to throw beyond that line (except for the little kids, who played in the middle), and once you were hit, you were out. Cory and Sammy usually managed to stay until nearly the game's conclusion, but this year, Cory knew they'd be the last ones standing.
The crowds were starting to swell. It was almost noon, the official starting time of the fight, and the winners would be announced at 4 pm. Yeah, a 4 hour snowball fight. A huge, big-kid snowball fight. Cory was in heaven, and he couldn't stop that grin from making sneaking onto his face again, making the freackles on his cheeks dance.
"So I invited Lucy this year." He added, before he forgot to mention it. Lucy was so a part of Cory's life, he almost never gave thought to her being with him all the time. She was nearly constantly at his side, plotting and playing games, talking, laughing, the usual friend thing. Still, it was worth mentioning to Sammy anyway. "Think she'll actually manage to hit anyone?" He laughed, zipping his jacket up to his chin, and grinning that boyish grin.
On the other hand, it was a perfect opportunity for a city-kid snowball fight.
Cory grinned down at the snowball in his gloved hands, his cheeks red with cold and his lips chapped from the dry winter air. The snow was perfect this time of year for packing--it was wet and heavy, carried well and, when thrown with precision, could be the ultimate fighting weapon. Cory loved those kinds of games, anyhow. The ones where everyone chose sides and fired like crazy at the "enemy" with whatever weaponry was available. Snowball fights, dodge ball, capture the flag (go blue team!) were all games childish Cory could never get enough of.
So though he had mixed emotions about snow, those emotions were predominantly positive. When else in the calender year was it perfectly acceptable to throw frozen bits of water at people? Cory weighed the snowball in his hand, the grin on his face suddenly replaced by a look of intense concentration. "Watch this," he muttered to his left, narrowing his eyes for better visibility. Tongue caught between his teeth, Cory cocked his arm back, took aim, and threw the snowball. Hard.
His elbow lead with surprising force, followed by his arm and wrist, and quickly the snowball was whipped from his fingertips and sent rocketing across the open field. There it sank to the ground and sort of exploded, across the temporary barrier that marked off the red team's throwing point. "All the way across," Cory smirked, "and from back here. We're so winning this year, Sammy." Cory clapped the snow from his gloves and turned toward his friend.
Every year in Central Park, hundreds of locals came for the intense all-ages snowball fight. Cory and Sammy had made it kind of a tradition to be on the blue team, every year since they first met three years ago. Every year, the red team won. Every year. BUT NOT THIS YEAR.
The field was divided in half, and then halved again from there, each quarter roped off by blue or red rope. You weren't allowed to throw beyond that line (except for the little kids, who played in the middle), and once you were hit, you were out. Cory and Sammy usually managed to stay until nearly the game's conclusion, but this year, Cory knew they'd be the last ones standing.
The crowds were starting to swell. It was almost noon, the official starting time of the fight, and the winners would be announced at 4 pm. Yeah, a 4 hour snowball fight. A huge, big-kid snowball fight. Cory was in heaven, and he couldn't stop that grin from making sneaking onto his face again, making the freackles on his cheeks dance.
"So I invited Lucy this year." He added, before he forgot to mention it. Lucy was so a part of Cory's life, he almost never gave thought to her being with him all the time. She was nearly constantly at his side, plotting and playing games, talking, laughing, the usual friend thing. Still, it was worth mentioning to Sammy anyway. "Think she'll actually manage to hit anyone?" He laughed, zipping his jacket up to his chin, and grinning that boyish grin.