Avalanche

Avalanche

Chunks of snow crumbled beneath our shoes as we trekked on one of Asia’s mountains. Up to an altitude so high, the cold air purified yet strangled every breath. I could hear my heart’s rhythm through my pressurized ears. The muscles in our shoulders settled like the boulders nesting in the neighboring mountains.

We had been walking for a few hours in the dark. It was far more difficult to trek in the dark, in the snow, in high altitudes. You could practically see our heart beats through our first layer of clothing. At our summit, we sat, awaiting the sun’s rebirth. In a meditative state, I listened to the wind’s calling as morning came. Delightfully disturbed, a light warm touch of sunlight startled me. My eyes opened to a pink and purple sky smudged with a little yellow resting above the frosty base that surrounded us.

A cold loving hand helped me up and pulled me to dance at the top of the secluded Asian mountain. We could hear the music was not there. In his deep sapphire eyes, I saw myself reflected. I looked terrible; I wore wilted hair, a face burnt to orange with lips so chapped, they begged to go home. I was wildly beautiful. I could feel my inner self opening more. His cold hands held my face and celebrated with a kiss enclosed by untouched terrain, knowing that we would never see each other after this adventure.

Miles in front of us, a thundery sound vibrated downward, then up and around the mountains through every pebble, every crease.

An avalanche was near.