At the touch of the Gods

We continue with the publication of the micro-stories of the second edition of the competition: High Altitude StoriesWe leave you to enjoy "A tocar de los Dioses", by Xavier Torres Canals.

At the touch of the Gods

-by Xavier Torres Canals

Dreams that don't come. Dreams that come true. Days of waiting and days where you feel that nothing and no one matters more than what you long for. And now I am here, to touch the sky. To touch from the Gods.

Just a few hours and I will feel what I have been chasing for so long. Just one last effort. Big, very big. But just one last effort.

It's two o'clock in the morning. It's cold and I feel exhausted. More than exhausted. I have to eat and drink, but I'm neither hungry nor thirsty. It's been days since they left. It was my dream, not theirs.

I try to breathe. I do, but not without effort. Feathers, everything is full of feathers. There is no light. Barely starlight. Nothing moves. Time doesn't seem to move either.

Everything costs so much. Why does it have to cost so much? It must be the Gods who have woken up. They don't like to be disturbed. That's why they are Gods.

I have a headache. Not a good sign. It's hard to think. Neither is this. Sometimes in front, sometimes behind. He's been beside me for hours, days. And though I try
talk, he does not. He knows that the gods like silence.

A thread of light illuminates us. Snow and ice. Such are the great mountains. Today, just at sunrise, we will touch the Gods. We will, yes, but only because they have left us.