A faint sound cuts through the silence and I stop moving. Snow floats down in massive flakes, tickling what little skin I have exposed on my face and getting tangled up in my eyelashes. I’m a beacon of heat in a frozen land. Tendrils of steam arc from over my head. I imagine myself starting to sink into the mountain, as if even without motion my position becomes unstable. The horizon is all but blank. The sky and the ground are the same dull white, only the faint tracing of a distant rocky ridge delineates the two. Silence. Not even a whisper of wind.
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