The Cliff

With morning comes mistfall

I paused to catch my breath. The howling wind swirled over the volcanic rock face stringing numbing mist in thin wisps like cobweb over the stone. Every muscle in my body ached and yet the tension in my limbs remained, trembling on the edge of control.

The cliff loomed above, a cruel overhang, sharp black against the pale fog. Below me lay only the shroud of darkness. I knew that I had picked a foolish route to climb, yet a stubborn anger refused to let me alter my course.

I had been careless too, dashing my hands on outcrops as jagged as shattered glass. Although I tore my clothes to provide makeshift padding and bandage, blood still trickled down my forearms, congealing in the grime and sweat.

For as long as I could remember I had defied gravity, propelled upward by the dream of the summit, until a simple realization stopped me. There was no summit.

I cried then, ice in my lashes. What difference could it make if I fell now? Why struggle upward against the ache, against the pain, against the relentless rock, when at last, in the end, I knew I must fall?

I looked down. The mist that swirled in the darkness below offered only oblivion. I could let go. I could tuck my hands into the warmth of my armpits and fall back into open air. I could almost feel the release.

I jolted in panic, my hands gripping tight, my stomach in my throat. For a moment I closed my eyes and concentrated on breathing. Fear held me to the rock. The terror of the drop overcame any rational motivation.

I looked up. The cliff offered nothing. No threat, no taunt, no encouragement. How long could I cling like moss on the stone before my grip failed me?

Just then, a little shard of blue caught my eye, bobbing in the wind above the lip of the overhang. Through the mist I could make out a tiny, ice blue flower, bowed by the wind. The scrap of color provided a landmark if nothing more.

I pried a stiff hand from the rock, fingers feeling for a higher hold. I hooked in and took the weight, straining the tendons in my arm, stabbing knives into my shoulder, releasing my legs to find a new foothold.

I would climb at least as far as that flower.

Reviews

[emmajoy]

'The scrap of color provided a landmark if nothing more.'

What a wonderfully gentle finish to a climb of such dark and perplexing thoughts. You write with assurance, placing words in exactly the right places, ' I could let go. I could tuck my hands into the warmth of my armpits and fall back into open air. '

Could read this over and over to find its different directions .. there's more than one theme, to my thinking.

[gcp]

:) Aww thanks :)

[Pete Langley]

This is a delicious piece of writing, Pete. The tautness of the words reflects perfectly your predicament and the flower gives a fine counterpoint of hope. Superb. P.

[gcp]

Aww thanks :)

[Christof]

*like*

[gcp]

:)

[Dennis]

Good Work.

[gcp]

Thanks.

[Chen Li Assunç&a..]

i will always grow flowers for u

[gcp]

Aww thanks - that's a real sweet comment :)

[Diptesh Patel]

Woah that's a bit dark. good job you put the flower in there, i was getting a bit worried. i'll see you at the top!
i reckon the beginning needs less words or something. the end is a spot on.

[gcp]

Dark can be good :)

Yeah - I see what you mean - I figure a little edit can solve that :) Thanks.

See you on the beach, my friend.

[JDM]

I loved everything about this piece. I read it twice and liked it even better the second time. One exception...I think the title was a little too literal--especially if this is about (overcoming) suicide. Keep it up! You're very talented!

[gcp]

Aww thanks :-) Glad you liked it :-)

I agree on the title, it's a bit dull ... I couldn't really decide what to call it and so slapped on an ill considered working title which seems to have gotten stuck... I'll have to give it some thought.... thanks for the pointer :-)

[David Scott]

Well, you really can write... You did "show" me without "telling" me. I learned alot reading this short story. A little about writing and more about how universal the struggle of this life is. Thank you for this profound lesson! I'll be "locked in" for the next pull forward.

[gcp]

Awww thanks! That's a lovely review :) I'm glad it connected with you and that you like the writing :) Your kind comments made me smile :)

[Andrew Gordinier]

Very cool. I like how the simple flash of color is hope and motivation.

[gcp]

Aww thanks :) When you're up against the rock you look for hope in small things :)

[Jessica]

I like this! It's a fantastic metaphor and the descriptions were great-- I've never been cliff jumping/climbing but now I think I want to...

[gcp]

aww thanks :)
This one is a bit bleak - perhaps I'll have to write something about the thrill of jumping off cliffs - it's worth a try - take it easy on the first few times though - it's deceptively hard on the impact. ;)

[Jessica]

Will keep that in mind-- I enjoy trying things that - I'll admit it - scare me... ;)

[gcp]

Yah - I think that's part of the fun! If it's not scary then it's not high enough...