And so I begin this lonely ascent of the soul, every step closer to the clouds. It’s a struggle to breathe, this high up, and it’s really, really cold too. I hug myself and stand among shattered rocks and stunted trees, in the howl of a wind that’s ruled these peaks for a million years or more.

I’m thinking of you, even though I’m also thinking about my death. I can see so much from here, the sly and sharp and cruel curve of the earth so like a glimmering scimitar, the sky close enough to touch. I bear witness to the four corners of the world for hundreds of miles, the horizons beyond blue mystery. When I look up the shattered stones speak and the vista has an animus, this whisper that insists I should despair. The blackness of space, so near yet so far, has a voice of a sort.

Look at you, little fox, it seems to say. Just lay down and die. I hate you.

I won’t though, because I love you.

That icy wind always finds a way, slips into the hoodie I’ve wrapped around myself and chills me so. My hackles are up and I’m shivering but I feel so alive…and gods…this view. I see everything.

Still holding my lucky deck, my left paw never leaves my pocket. I won’t take it out, the cards would all fly away, yet it’s nice to know they’re all there all the same.

I think you’d be proud of me. I was so scared to come up here, I thought for sure I would die if I did. The drive alone is intimidating, let alone the hike. Something was calling me to the summit though. I had to know, to see the truth.

Now that I have I’m not sure if I’m sorry or not. I’m not a believer in destiny, I know you know that, and religion isn’t my thing either. Even so…

I don’t know anymore. I’ve changed somehow. I’m back down but a part of me is still up there…somewhere.

You always said I was crazy.