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We continue with the publication of the micro-stories of the second edition of the competition: High Altitude StoriesWe let you enjoy "Colapso", by Felipe Cortés Mayán.

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-by Felipe Cortés Mayán

I was once again face to face with the two hundred metres of frozen waterfall. I could see it from every angle, as if suddenly I was a drone and had the ability to fly over it.

There was no summit to conquer, it was just a matter of climbing it from start to finish and, curiously, the end was precisely the beginning of the waterfall, where the water rushed into the void.

I sensed the point where it was all over for us that morning. About fifty metres up, I was leading the long way, Tomas was securing me from the belay. The noise was similar to that of lightning before the thunder cracks; it was a dry, loud crack and then we moved downwards, like insects clinging to the falling tree.

I admit that it was a bitter farewell, I hit the waterfall with rage, without crampons or ice axe; I was not going to need them anymore.