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Just ClimbJust Climb in Short Stories
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I had a dream last night. After five years of blank nights and colorless unconsciousness, I had a dream. And in my dream, I was doing something I have never done in my life.
It started with me at the bottom of a mountain. And not just any mountain, but one with rocks that looked razor sharp and terrifying. It stretched as far up as I could see, from the edges of my naked toes to the ominous dark clouds. The harsh wind, as sharp as the rocks themselves, pierced right through my thin pajamas all the way into my bones, turning my insides to ice.
I looked around, not seeing anyone there. "What?" I called into the flat desert landscape.
"Are you going to start climbing, or what?"
A harsh laugh burst through my tight lips. "Are you kidding? I can't climb this."
A warm hand on my shoulder. "I promise that if you get up there to the top, all your effort and pain will be worth it." I looked over to where I thought the voice was coming from, but no one was there. "Trust me." A