This is you. You are here, in the story. You awake to the cabin
shaking in a violent gust of wind. You look out the window and see
nothing but a swirling sea of gray. Somewhere nearby, hiding behind
the weather is an aesthetic gem of a peak. A glimpse is revealed when
clouds suddenly pull across the face like a curtain. White ribbons
plummet through rocks and trees, merging into a thought-provoking,
vertical boulevard. As quickly as it appeared, the view is gone.

What to do.

The world outside is colorless and fierce.

Do you want to be out in it?


Stop reading and go back to work, or tend to your laundry, or whatever
it is you need to do. The story is over.


Dress warm. It's cold out there.

Alone with your stream of consciousness, you trek through a meadow
toward the base of the slide. Faint houses disappear in the wind. The
left side of your face starts to numb. A plastic bag zips by.

Ascending in the shelter of trees, you stop and look around.
Everything is monochrome and dim. Trees moan and creak. There are
mountains all around, but you can't see any of them. It feels like a
gloomy replica of a vaguely familiar place.

Pay attention now, because your last choice is coming.

Emerging from the forest at the top, a brutal gust greets you in the
face. You pull your hood up, put your head down and endure. As it
relents, you transition from uphill to downhill mode, and wait out
another blast of wind.

Visibility wavers. The edge of the cornice is indistinct at times.
Snow spews straight up in the air off the lip. During a window of
relative calm, you approach the edge and have a look. The view is

What to do.

The run is becoming loaded. It may or may not be like nitroglycerin,
just waiting for a spark.

Do you abort?

Or do you throw lit matches on it and see what happens?

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