As we wait in line

for the next trolley,

I gaze up at Lookout

Mountain,

and I think

about the time when

the Union Army had to

trek up such a steep

slope and hold their

Fort against the

Confederates.

As my mind keeps

reminiscing like an

old storyteller,

the trolley arrives.

The car is overcrowded

with tourists of all

types: couples, families,

historians, and a

parade of children

on a school field trip.

The voice over the

speaker falls on the

deafest of ears.

The view so far is

amazing, yet I feel

a little nauseous.

At last we have

reached the top.

The people, anxious

and unfriendly,

quickly rushed

out, phones and

cameras ready in

hands.

My sister and I

wait for our parents,

intent upon seeing

the view.

It is astounding, like

you could walk out

and see the city

below your feet.

my parents ask

someone for a quick

picture of us all,

then we begin our

journey down.