Buried

Just a mere hundred feet to go. The feeling of rejoice overcame the mountain climbers. For days they trekked to reach the summit. It was a task that not many people in the modern world understood.

Jake’s watch beeped and a hologram appeared. It was the GPS in his smartwatch. He set it to notify him every 1000 feet. The bright blue sky obscured the reading as the sun bounced brightly off the snow. He was no pioneer but it was the love of the mountain that kept him going. Only the other hikers could understand. Some still clung to the pioneer feeling, glazed over the hard truths by advertising. Those people did not get this far.

The mountain claims respect or it claims you. Jake looked up over the gleaming, cold black wall. His axe pinged off hard granite. He swung again, it cracked, he slipped. Hard rock fell off to the side below

‘Heads Up!’ By then the rock had passed. Jake sighed.

This was the laborious part. Jake’s modern shoes made it easier but his modern life was truly catching up to him. Every few feet seemed to take forever, breathes came faster, he could heel the harshly soft sting of his labor bathing his lungs in its ink.

Five feet, Jake paused, his adrenaline and excitement going.

Four feet, the pitch mellowed he didn’t need rope anymore.

A burst of energy. Three feet, two feet, one foot.

The burst forced Jake to stop. He couldn’t stop. His legs thrust forward as if on command from his desperate and growing need to reach the summit.

Jake collapsed with a smile remembering for a slight moment he still needed to get down.

 

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