Short: The Mountain, Verse 3


The first visit only intensified the boy’s hunger to climb the Mountain,

and he day dreamed of reaching the snowy summit,

of planting his flag at the top.

Mere months later, near the end of summer and the beginning of another school year, his thirst was relieved.

A field trip.

To the mountain, or better told, to same state park at the foot of the beast he visited with his dad.

The boy was elated upon hearing the good news.

And he couldn’t keep his legs from running all the way home.

Bursting through the door, he yelled, DAD! MOM! WE’RE GOING TO THE MOUNTAIN! without caution or care.

When the day arrived, the boys parents found him sitting at the breakfast table, packed and ready for adventure.

Both mom and dad welcomed the initiative and his widened eyes and the excitement of the morning’s conversation,

his feet swinging from his seat.

The rest of the morning lagged from house to school to the slow journey north on a cranky yellow bus.

The boy didn’t mind.

He’d chosen his seat with care, close to the front, able to ignore the chatter and hum of the other children.

Unfortunately, his second trip to the Grey Lord was nothing like the first.

After a head count, potty break, and lecture from the park ranger,

the class marched down one trail before stopping for lunch.

The boy ate his lunch with his face to his Friend,

and recoiled at a stack of papers thrust into his hand.

Worksheets?

He thumbed through the papers, answering what he could, and stuffed the stack in backpack.

The next hike lasted little more than an hour, included many stops, and yet another bathroom break.

And his heart sank as he heard the words, head back toward the bus.

But all was not lost, for amid the standing and boredom, the boy took home a trophy.

Stuffed in his bag with the stack of papers, pencils, and an empty water bottle was a trifold map he took from ranger’s station.

Detailed and colorful, he now possessed the ability to go higher and further than before.

And the whole ride home he studied his prize and planned his next trip.


Nik Curfman

I am a writer and artist in the early stages of my trek. I spent 20 years trying to be who I thought I needed to be, and now I am running after who I am. Fearless Grit is my space to document and share the process. 

https://fearlessgrit.com
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Vol IV: #45 Honestly, Honesty

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Vol IV: #44 Cut Them Some Slack