The Ice Rink

At the ice rink, there are families, couples, and individuals moving around in laps.  They all have varying speeds.  The young couples who are there on a date are feigning the imminence of a fall, but really neither of them will; they are both proficient enough skaters to all but guarantee they will make it around the rink without a bruise or a scratch.  There is a man who is ice skating alone, and he is making steps with his ice skates to the point of resisting the enterprise of gliding entirely.  I think he is doing it because he knows that gliding is where the accidents start.  You see, even these two examples illustrate where a lot of the thrill of the activity lies for novices, and that's in the resistance of falling.  Something tells me that he came with his family, but that they have decided to do other things while he endeavors to make something of himself around the rink.  There is a amateur figure skater who goes out into the middle of the rink and, wearing with large black lettering a shirt that indicates her affiliation to some Colorado ice skating group, begins to spin like one of those music box figurines you sometimes open on Christmas.  She finishes spinning and rejoins the herd as they continue making their laps around the ice.  Two young girls, each of them of about ten, are holding hands as they gain speed, nearing the turn.  The one on the left falls on her face.  The one on the right bends down and asks if she's OK.