Burning Picas

Sweat dripped down the side of the runner's face and continued its path along his shoulders and settled uncomfortably at his back. His shirt clung to him, drenched. He wiped the stinging mixture of perspiration and sunscreen from his eyes. He could. not. stop. The sacred torch in his hands must reach its final destination. He must light the flame. The fire seemed to spread throughout his body and he urged his screaming muscles into an all-out sprint. He could hear the crowds cheering he could see the glint of the shining stadium in the summer heat. Nearly there. He burst through the marble columns and raced up the stairs. Holding the torch triumphantly above his head he touched it to the oil. Both the flame and the crowd erupted echoing across the vast stadium. The Yearbook Games had begun.

Today the CMV and the Yarrbook staff came over for a little T-shirt decorating bash. It was great fun! This is our Yearbook-ian torch for our up coming (haha) yearbook camp. I'm so excited I can't even express it to you! Yay yearbook!