I kinda gave up on the ending of this. I'm tired. I think my feet have forgotten how to walk. I blame her. She walks light over rocks and boulders, as if it were just the playground; comfortable like a goat, maybe, but I’ve never seen a goat on a mountain. I see sheep, though, fat wooly things with dark long faces that stare and run. They look awkward; I think I am more a sheep. Not that I fit in, or follow the crowd – I wish I could, I am unable. Nor can I traverse this mountainside as they can... read more
