Karakorum

We continue with the publication of the micro-stories of the first edition of the competition: High Altitude Storieswe let you enjoy with "Karakorum", by Christian Fernandez Alonso.

Karakorum

-by Christian Fernandez Alonso-

The air is so thin that it does not give permission to breathe. The other mountains that have always been far away allow themselves to be caressed like maidens. I can, from this height, see them waking up sleepy, young and surly. I don't know why I was chosen to have come here and I don't know if I will ever be able to tell others. I smell of sweat and I am exhausted. I have left the body behind and it is likely that I died yesterday or the day before. I take off my blizzard goggles so I can cry at ease. From here I can spin space, trade up for down, see myself in a sphere of which I am the centre and feel your cruelty in allowing me to own this. You have taken my friends and letting me stay here, terrified, is my price. I ask to stay a few more minutes and continue to survive. I feel guilty for feeling this peace and being touched by you.