Saturday, 15 June 2013

Magical Snowdonia (short story)

Mount Snowdonia
200 word short story

Magical Snowdonia

Brian cried as he walked over the heather washed hills towards Mount Snowdon. The world could be a cruel and lonely place but the mountains had always offered refuge to his heavy heart. Today was different the streams seems simply cold  and the sky oppressive as it hid the tip of Snowdon in its curtain of grey.

The rabbits scurrying from the buzzards circling overhead and hill ponies gossiped under the low trees ignoring Brian. The rocks slippy with moss made the walk difficult and Brian`s calf's began to burn with effort. He was surprised to feel anything at all today even the cold biting through his flimsy jacket.

The whiskey bottle was waiting for him, it would warm his soul when he reached the top, it would make the day seem warm and alive.

Brian sat at the summit and looked down into the clouds he felt his heart beat faster, the swirling mists lapping at his boots. Lying back to look at the sky he wanted to stay there forever, no more heartbreak, no more fear, a quick dive off the edge and it all ends.

Brian drank a tot of whiskey, breathed the frosty air, and tighten his boot laces. He began the slow decent back towards home. The mountains had once again worked their magic on Brian. He knew without doubt he could never willingly give them up.

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