“Are you mad?” my friend questioned.
“If a desire to appreciate nature’s beauty is crazy…” I replied as I laced up my heavy boots.
“That mountain’s covered in a slippery mix of ice and mud. Wait a few weeks; it will be safer.”
I stood, ready to start. “Why should I wait for the seasons? They take no notice of me.”
“Your impatience—” she exhaled. “The mountains are unforgiving now.”
“I’m not waiting for permission. Not from the weather, the mountains, nor from you.”
“Read between the lines, asshole. I do care.”
I untied my boots. The mountains could wait.
Excellent story. Love it. Thanks for writing it.
I love this! I can hear your voice as I read it.
Lovely. So much in so few words. Excellent.