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One recent afternoon at school, a few classmates nearly trampled my desk in their rush to crowd around the window. What caused this stampede? A few flakes of miserable snow.
As they squealed with delight, I shuddered. They saw pretty specks of white fluttering from the sky while I saw dandruff accumulating on everything.
Call me the Grinch, but I hate snow with a livid passion. I want to move far, far away to a land where it doesn’t exist. Like Florida.
Why do I harbor such hatred for this miracle called snow?
First of all, I hate being cold and wet. Who likes numb fingers and toes and runny noses?
Secondly, I’m not in elementary school anymore. Snow might be wonderful when you’re 7 and can spend the day hurling snowballs at your neighborhood friends while constructing a snow fort to defend your army of siblings. But when childhood ends and the novelty has worn off, you realize it’s a nuisance.
Snow cancels school and flights, closes roads and businesses, spurs wrecks, traps individuals in their homes and even claims lives.
Granted, snow is pretty. Waking up in the morning to see snow concealing the grayness of winter is breathtaking, but the icy and slushy mess it leaves behind is dangerous.
According to the National Snow and Ice Data Center, snow can be linked to the deaths of hundreds of Americans every year, primarily from snow-related traffic accidents. While a winter wonderland might be dazzling to the eye, its beauty can be fatal.
My bags for Florida are packed. All I need is a plane ticket.
Janelle Williams is a junior at Central Hardin High School.