Friday, 19 July 2013

Response 3: The climb

This was to be my greatest feat yet. Many called me crazy for trying. Charles Barrington, my great, great grandfather, the driving inspiration behind my success. The first to climb The Eiger back in 1938. I was about to follow his legacy.

The bitter Swiss wind cut through my skin, feeding my fear. I perservered, the thought of my grandfather spurring me on.

10,000 feet up the north face. Now I understood why many called this the ‘murder wall’.

Disaster! My ankle wedged firmly into the towering rock face. I was set to become another casualty of the murder wall, there was no escaping.

As my consciousness faded and vision blurred, I saw a small figure before me.


A small bird, the nutcracker!  I could see hope in his eyes. Hopping over to my rucksack to unveil my Swiss army knife, I knew what the little bird was telling me. 

1 comment:

  1. I presume he wasn't going to chip away the ice to freedom? Good tale and interesting take on the theme.

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