More Days

[Bob Clay]

It was a big jug like hand hold that I clung to as if it was the only thing between me and bowels of hell, which of course it was.  I looked down the rope at John, bundled up in his sleeping bag where I had wrapped him after he had frozen to death on the icy bivouac four or five thousand feet above me, I remember promising his dead body that I would get him down in one piece, that his wife and children would see him one more time, be able to say goodbye, but I had to break that promise right now because carrying him like this meant that I was not going to make it, if I tried I would join him in oblivion.

I clung to that huge talon of rock spearing up into the sky as if some vast monster was trying to tear its way up out of the Earth's crust and screamed in rage, frustration, defiance and terror, holding back my tears because this mountain didn't do tears, and had only scorn for those that did.

I cut the rope.

I watched the bundle fall, gliding gracefully down like some beautiful mountain bird until it hit a jutting spike of rock that produced an end over end spin, pure chaos that stopped abruptly on another rocky outcrop a thousand feet below bursting the bag and spewing out pieces of John like the obscene vomit of some dark demon, within seconds the pieces disappeared from view thousands of feet below me.

I still had a mile of sheer face to descend but I might make it now John's weight was off my back, but that load would be replaced by another, the weight of guilt that would be with me for the rest of my days:  but at least I would have more days.

[Crosby Kenyon]

Nicely done in six sentences.

[Stephen Torelli]

What a poignant tale and a tough day at the rappel site.

[Diana E. Backhouse]

More days to live with guilt. It begs the question are any of travelling a guilt free path.

[Adrian George Nicolae]

Yes, the fifth sentence is marvelous. 

[Jordan Torrey]

the falling bundle was some sort of slow-motion death theatre...   nice

[Teresa]

Choices are sometimes rock/hard place, so many of them.  Even what seem like the lighter choices can weigh so much later on.  Too much.  I felt a weight lift when that rope was cut. 

[Joey Delgado]

Poor John, but to hell with him, save yourself. The narrator made the right call. This was full of wonderfully gross out imager, and I love that. Great work, Bob. 

[Mike Handley]

I read all the way to the end, waiting for the mention of Higgs boson. But it never came, and I forgot all about it. You do "serious stuff" very well when ya put yer mind to it. Faved, Mr. Clay.

[Other]

I, also, like the stark isolation of "I cut the rope.''  I might have watched him fall, too  -then, lost my grip seeing him bust apart.  What a scene.. 

[Bill Lapham]

Gripping story, Bob. I like the timing of the "I cut the rope" line. New paragraph, one sentence. Gives the statement singular importance by surrounding it with white space. Nice.