A personal experience

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Crying a million tears

By Lindsey McInerney

We were skiing in a quiet little village called 'Cavalese' in Italy.

It was a really warm, sunny day for February, the sun on the snow made it look as if we were skiing on a carpet of diamonds.

It was time to go home so while my family skied the last more difficult run, I headed back on my own as I wasn't a very strong skier.

I waited for the cable-car to take me back to the mountain station where I was to wait for my family. They'd assured me they'd be on the next cable-car so I wouldn't be waiting on my own for too long.

I arrived at the mountain station and stood looking out of the huge windows over the valley. The snow was bright white and dotted with lush green trees. I could just make out the tiny people skiing down the mountain side. They looked like ants on a giant slide.

I heard a low rumble. This was quickly followed by a deafening whooshing sound. Everything from then seemed to go in slow motion. A small fighter