Question

Unsure whether the ice would hold me, I was careful where to cross the creek. I chose the usual shortcut—the fallen tree trunk. It was wide enough to walk on. It pointed my way home like a compass. This log was my only safe bridge from the wildlife. The bridge ended at civilization. When I reached the crest of the log, the fresh snow began to melt beneath my soles. Friction was no longer my friend. I lost my balance. Gravity grabbed me. I found myself plummeting toward the creek.


rewrite the pargraph