Mud Life by Shantelle I slipped and slid down the gray path way. The sticky mud was eating my nice clean shoes. I tiptoed my way down with the help of a stick. My skin shivered. I slowly jumped off the ugly log. My feet slipped on the leaves and got stuck in the mud. Silently I wondered why I was here. The old tree branches whined as the angry wind blew them away. The strength in my  legs was not powerful like it normally is. The damaged stick was unhappily stuck in the dirt. Mud, mud, mud!  All I ever see is sticky mud! Mud is the  colour of chocolate.