The Venti Canyon

We covered our eyes and stepped clumsily toward the edge, my left shoulder planted firmly on his right for balance, and both our jaws aching from the cold. On three, we looked. And breathed heavily. Because that's all either of us could do. 

"I think the word 'grand' doesn't really describe it," he said.

"Well then," I said, "we shall call it the Venti Canyon."


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