#fictionalstory

“Seemed like we wouldn’t get at the top,” I state. You almost quit on me. Not cool, not cool.” Sitting together, contemplating the climb and how we got to the hill.

“For a minute, I thought we would not get here. I am the kind that usually pulls out when it gets hard. I can’t take in a lot,” she admits. Looking at the scenery below, the view of a three-dimensional landscape. A valley with a town worth the name, a section of well-formulated buildings of descent residence and a congested, lifeless partition of houses. “I try to get it out… however it doesn’t come easy,” her innocent pain uttered with little hesitation.

“Everyone has that,” she asks defensively.

“ A weakness that is under progress.” A brick of sympathy as I listen to her.

“Does it get any better?”Consciously eager to see if it ends well. We sit on a bed of gravel stones, our limbs folded to our chest and hands tightly rapped at the knee.

©Joeln