A Mountain's Icy Slide Home
Posted on: March 11, 2008?> Copyright © 2008 Sticky Pen
A wonderful thing is being a boy standing half-naked, just jeans and nothing else, your bare feet gripping a narrow ledge and you are stretched, your fingertips keep you upright as they grip the edge of the ledge above you.The only thing between you and the night, you and the freezing fog, you and the claustrophobia that darkness brings to mountains and large stretches of land, is your skin.It's freezing cold and your balcony doors are open. Music is pouring out along with the heat in your expensive mountain house. You turn your head and you can see that heat shimmer while it rolls out. The music is the King of Pain, by The Police, and you close your eyes and imagine that blue whale beached by the springtime's ebb, because that's how you feel.You're up and out of water. Where at one time you were in a place where you were beautiful and you could do the most amazing things, you've now come to a place where you no longer belong. The funny thing is it's the same place. The place is beside your husband and you've traded a dry mountain home for a wet one.Gravity transforms the beauty and strength of a whale into a helpless beast. The sun which barely reached him before as the weakest blue tendrils now eats him alive.That's how I felt last night. I was freezing standing there on the ledge of my balcony, but not shivering. The forest, the mountains seemed as small ...
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