3/31/22 Man of the Mountain

 Man of the Mountain

He pulled himself from the earth, grinding his teeth as his muscles burned, heaving his full weight from the solid rock. He was like no other, gray like rock, but with the flesh of a human. He did not know what he was, or where he came from, or what he was meant to do. 

Curiously he moved his ligaments, feeling the flow of their motion. He was tense at first, fists halfway clenched, legs as stiff as steel bars, but it did not last. After a few moments of aches and cracks, he loosened up, as he learned how his body worked. 

Walking came instinctively, the need to move forward pushing his legs to go. As he walked through the mountainous terrain, he looked around, seeing nothing but stone dirt and snow. He stopped as he came upon a small patch of vegetation. Peeking through the snow were vibrant purple crocus. It was attractive to him, a very interesting color among the white and gray of the mountains.

He continued on but his feet grew cold in the snow. He managed to find a path through the cold flakes, tramped down by animals before him. Walking on the hard dirt was better, but the cold still began to set in all over his body. His gray skin shivered, no hair anywhere to provide any sort of warmth. He grasped his torso tightly, not wanting to feel the cold and unsure of how to escape it. 

His pace slowed as his teeth rattled and small bumps formed all over his skin. The aches and pain returned as he collapsed in the snow. A heaviness fell upon his eyes, he struggled to keep them open. He lost the fight as his eyelids closed, bringing darkness to his sight. 

Slowly he began to sink through the snow, back into the earth. His life was short and strange, no real meaning or purpose, not enough time to learn everything he needed to know. From the earth he came and to the earth he returned, never to step foot on the land again. 


The End

3/31/22

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