The Mountains

He looked up at the mountains in awe and wonder. Something was happening inside of him that he had never felt before. For just a moment he felt as though he could fly. Where would he go? How high would he climb? It seemed as if the wind were picking him up like he were a feather. He was drifting in and out of consciousness with each gust. Memories began playing in his mind like an old silent film. There were no words, only images. Color began to bleed through the black and white scenes. A tapestry of colors that were bold and bright filled his vision. There were things he remembered and things he’d rather forget.

Time seemed to move differently now. It could go forward or reverse itself. Some memories he wished were longer, while others he wished to escape. Sounds and music were coming from all directions. Somehow he could pick out each distinct sound as if it were a finely tuned radio station. He could feel his heartbeat loud in his chest. Each breath seemed to take him higher and higher into the clouds. Suddenly he felt someone take his hand. He felt them pull him even higher now. He was not aware of where his body might be, but he could feel the heat from the sun. It felt warm on his back. Mysteries were now known and wisdom he could feel was unlocking doors that had previously been shut. Wherever he was he felt like he was neither arriving nor leaving. Then, without a moment’s notice he was back on the ground staring up at the mountains.

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