696. A winter storm had dumped a foot of snow on Brooklyn. Hilda had an appointment with her doctor a block away. Her daughter Sharon went with her. They walked arm in arm. Hilda watched her every step, but still slipped on some unseen ice. Sharon lost her grasp. Hilda's feet went forward. Her head went backward. Her arms stretched out behind her. She landed on her butt. Her hands and arms propped her up so her head didn't hit the sidewalk. Sharon said, "Oh, my gosh! Mom, are you okay?" Sharon helped Hilda up. Sharon brushed off the back of Hilda's coat. "I hate the winter," Hilda said. Sharon said, "Everyone does. No matter how careful you are, you can still slip and fall. It's no fun, for sure." Just then four young kids ran by laughing and yelling. Hilda said, "Unless you're seven years old on a snow day." 2.2