The cold winters breeze lay calmly around Summer as the sun awoke from the mountains that stood around her. Dawn broke as silently as time had awoke and as the trees began to sway from side to side. The delicate essence of pure, white air creating a cloud of smoke that made visibility almost purposely impossible. The mission seeming almost delirious, the babbling birds standing too tall in their trees to swoop to ground. How often the rain seemed to be in acquaintance with the sun, almost as life itself. To the demise of Winter who always found a way to eradicate the shine of Summer's bloom and confuse the humidity with deaths strangling hold.
At midday it was imminent that strength would play colonel in her mind. Difficulty an invasion of a mischievous matriarch, a colorful character that sought envy embodied in her mauve eyes. Like always, Summer refused to give way to the rain for Summer herself still fought to reign. So as the sun of Everest rose again, Summer rose coherently, just like the birds, the bream and the bloom of yellow dandelions. The map was a visual of a path to come, a supplement for all the mishaps of the past. The rise and fall of the beats of her heart were almost able to exceed the squabble of chirps that created the rhyme of the mountains. Standing idle at the foot of the mountain she hesitantly gazed up. Hanging somewhere above the misty clouds, somewhere out of sight, sat Everest’s peak. If life played games on people’s minds, then this would be the greatest game she had ever played.
From faraway the mountain top seemed almost as simple as a one way road; no obstacles that threatened to ruin her stay and no monsters aiming to eat her alive. Yet so close to the fast flowing current that would blow her away, Summer would have to make a decision; to go or to stay? The birds that gawked in the trees seemed to laugh louder every second that passed by. No longer was the mountain an apparition; it was a fire that seemed to rage out of control, a fire fuelled by the tears that had once rolled off her cheeks. The phoenix that had forever evaded the boundaries and constraints that had once ruled her life was nowhere to be seen and with that in mind she stretched out her hand to take touch to the icy, cold mountain side. The shivers of contemplation ran an abacus down her spine; each bead filled with the need to reach the peak.
Mother Nature’s deceptive games touched Summer like a feather falling faintly on her skin. The shivers of contemplation, a sense of victory under the harshest conditions, were now replaced by the will to succeed. On she went, not responding to the large crowd that had now gathered to see her fall and fail.
Calling out to the buzzing crowd that had now gathered, Summer sighed. Fatigue engrossed her arms and legs, ice began to build on her thick, long lashes. The gust of wind, now so strong, had her hair falling weakly upon her face. Closing her eyes she opened up a world where she lay second to the people that mattered most. She had once drunk gold from the spring that entered her home, yet still she fell so hard back down to the ground. While the others laughed, she cried. Summers, determined as ever to right her wrongs, but more importantly prove them all wrong, refused to give in. Reopening her eyes to a raining sky she tried harder to reach out. To feel the top, to own the peak. On she went, playing the magician of the show, making people stare with fury, some with pain. She knew quite well what plagued their minds; “How had Summer so small and quite, throw Winter aside and shine so bright?”
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