Prose

Deniz Atay


older other prose newer

19 july 2012

Climbing The Mountain

Actually, one – it can be any – mountain was the toughest of all I had climbed throughout my life. It was once said that this had caused many climbers to die on their way. I don’t know; this mountain can be even my dream, our yours – I don’t know. But one thing I am sure of is that this was definitely the toughest.
I was climbing with a friend and a guide - whom he said he was the only person that could help me reach the top - for long hours. Still, all I could see were ferrets, lilies, ragworths and – my favourite, of course – rosebays. But this means nothing when you compare them with my high expectations.
The guide was keep telling me: “We’d better find a place where we can rest awhile.” “Look, it’s getting dark.” Or his typical saying: “Let’s camp. Look, we have everything here – we can continue tomorrow.” The fact was, maybe there would be no tomorrow to climb all the way back again – especially when this was about to end.
After I took a rest for maximal a minute, I started again. My legs were tired, but I couldn’t stop – no, not at all! But if only I had one wish, this should have been about my stamina – In terms of sports, I am lousy as hell - except swimming. But I have quite a lot of energy inside, and that I think was keeping me on track.
Anyway, my friend was getting tired, and our guide, as well. As they fell behind me, they were shouting: “Hey, how about resting our bones a bit?” I tried, but that mentally causes laziness in my mind; and that was the very last thing I wanted in that circumstance. So…
After a short break of drinking some water, I reached at a very desolate side of the mountain. It was fog quite everywhere around me, as well. I couldn’t hear anything – not even a crow cocking or an eagle shouting. No sound!
I was lost, that was for sure. But actually, it didn’t cause me to lose my faith. I only looked back for a second or two. I kept climbing, climbing and climbing till I heard nothing except my footsteps and saw nothing except the dead rosebays. It was too damn depressing.
Normally I could cry easily, but in fact I was on the top and that should have contented me! Neither it was the sight of the dead rosebays or my naked conceit - I realized it was my soul I had lost!






Report this item

 


Terms of use | Privacy policy

Copyright © 2010 truml.com, by using this service you accept terms of use.


You have to be logged in to use this feature. please register

Ta strona używa plików cookie w celu usprawnienia i ułatwienia dostępu do serwisu oraz prowadzenia danych statystycznych. Dalsze korzystanie z tej witryny oznacza akceptację tego stanu rzeczy.    Polityka Prywatności   
ROZUMIEM
1