Frost Walk

by Erin Hamilton

Tiredly, I trudged along the treacherous, endless path with the wind howling madly behind me, struggling with a heavy load step by step, step by step. Clutching my chest with raw hands I thought of suicide, desperately cold and hungry as if my chest was eternally empty. Once hearing a relentless ear piercing ring, I whipped my pale, frost ridden face swiftly around; noticing my beloved friends stretched out like elastic on the cracked path

Exhausted Exhausted by the never-ending echoing hills, some of my team mates (which were not as afraid of giving up) lay strewn out in a mess on the cracked icy surface, painfully crying sorrowfully from their agonizing discomfort. As my companion tried to etch their message, with their bony frosted finger, one of the trio pointed at the sensational view as they staggered to see.

There White blankets of snow folded over the shimmering mountaintops, a view which only angels could see

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