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Halfway to Heaven
I could feel the air pressure
hugging tighter with every step upwards I took.
Crunch was the sound the perfect white snow made under my boots.
My 9-year old hands gripped the mountain poles with great intensity.
The anticipation, growing like my spirit, surrounds me, and guides my steps.
Finally, I reached my goal, the extraordinary top of the mountain.
Where you see nothing above you but clear baby blue sky.
Where there is only the purest of air
entering deep into your working lungs with every breath.
Where whole cruise ships shape into toys,
the ones you used to use while playing in the bathtub.
Looking down upon a large city, a fully functioning machine.
My whole body, being swallowed by the mountains, by the world.
“Hello Alaska,” I whispered into the vast open land below me.
My heart ached to stay up here.
To always breathe the air where our pollutant society hasn’t reached.
To live off of the view, off the sky.
I took my last breath from heaven,
and continued my long, winding journey back down to Earth.