Dusk is arising as the sun sets. The late Autumn dryness crisps the leaves into fragile shards of fresh glass. As I walk with cold, bare feet down the mountain top, I sense another's presence, no where to be seen in the shadows. As I search for numerous hours, time is finite in this land of fear and dread. The wind picks me up, and with ear-shattering shrills, carries me into an unfamiliar place. Into It...I cannot see a thing, however I develop a sixth sense as my sight diminishes into a craven flashlight, which soon disappeared entirely. The frigidness of the air is a noose...and It has life that has fallen directly into Its hands. But he taunts me, mocking me, thinks of me as his toy. But I get his signal and I know I will not be coming back to these mountains. I came with a swiftness incomparable to the eye's detection, and now I will exit with the same swiftness of the howling wind that now fills my soul and sinks me deeper into the Earth's core.
The Mountains that Left No One Behind
November 29, 2012