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Mt. Humphreys





He once stood tall, having just cleared a long-winded summit - on top of the world with the North Star within his grasp.


Never wondering: “Where do shadows go when the sun goes down?”


Blinded by the fallacy of the star’s shine, he couldn’t see the admonishments along the journey to the top, nor could he hear Death’s whisper in his ear: “Don’t look down.”


The moment he did, he lost balance and fell 12,000 feet off the pedestal and onto the cold hard ground. Fragile but not pulverized he was covered in spider vein cracks.


As he lay there in agony he dreamed of redemption and revenge over the confidant in sheep’s clothing who deceived him and cost him his reputation.


When he finally rose, he rose slowly, wary of residual traps. Licking his wounds, he began his journey back.


He made his way through the dark forest haunted by the relics of a curse: “You’ll never amount to anything.”


Standing 12,000 feet tall at the edge of the woods before him was the familiar mountain. He looked up and said a prayer of gratitude to the guiding Trinity who braced the impact of his fall and who offered him eternal protection.


It was their voices who now echoed in his ear: “Without hindsight, you never would’ve arrived here. Never a failure always a lesson.”


And in new flesh and scar tissue, he began his ascend once more.

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