There is a tall mountain in Colorado. Capped by snow even in July, it is a place where one can go to lose one’s self. A place where men have died. More than a decade ago I climbed this mountain and reached its summit. I was younger then. Full of strength, but empty of wisdom, getting back down never crossed my mind. To be young and strong is a beautiful and dangerous thing. The world is nothing more than an infinite number of possibilities. A fortune, a hero, an unexpected kiss, these are the things a young man sees on the paths ahead. Death is but an abstract concept. A thing that happens to others and will happen to you. One day… far from today. Concepts such as pain, boredom, and apathy are but momentary inconveniences.

I climbed down from the mountain only at the urging of friends who loved me. I stumbled back in to a small mountain town, and forced myself to eat a slice of pepperoni pizza. That night I slept on the ground.

I am older now. The mountain calls to me. Death approaches to walk by my side. 

Next Chapter: Desert Car Wash