A life in letters: Slide

As soon as there was snow or heavy frost in the Primary School playground, some of the more adventurous kids would create a slide. They would run across the snow, and then lock their feet, letting the momentum they had built up carry them forward over the slippery surface until a grey line of compacted ice extended across the tarmac. Children would then line up waiting to fling themselves exuberantly forward one by one.

Sometimes I would have a go. I would make my approach, holding my body with an over-cautious rigidity. But when the time came to abandon myself to the ribbon of ice I could never quite find the courage entrust myself to it, and pulled up in sad embarrassment.

The slide would remain until the temperature rose, or until the janitor dissolved it with handfuls of rock salt, spoiling the fun.