PRIME
By valiswaverider
- 720 reads
It’s cold, really cold. It’s crippling my fingers
Cannot go backwards cannot go forwards, so I guess I, am stuck here. I suck in the alpine air for all it is worth. Capitol Hill is a million miles away. Only the present moment is important.
24 hours ago I was boarding a plane, desparate for a break. Washington has this habit of wearing you down. I ate well and I slept, the flight raced by in half remembered waking and sleeping. The messages going backwards and forwards to Whitehall and Tokyo as I left the office. Those E-mails will still be flying faster than this jet, actions been taken without my veto.
Now here I am where I want to be far from politicos and midnight phone calls. I am just hanging on to this ledge, I was inching my way across but now I am just waiting. Resting and catching my breath. A deep breath in, a wince, I, am trying to ignore the drilling pain in my right shoulder. I cannot see the valley for the fog. I feel a strange sense of detachment here a feeling I have never felt before. The skin on my hands and fingers are torn and numb I feel deep ache in the bones as I loosen my grip ever so slightly.
Below me in the valley I can hear a woodpecker hammering at a tree. I am fighting for my life. I often make this statement with regard to my political life, but never has it been so literally true. The ache spreads it is half way down my back now ready to go into spasm. My legs feel weary ready to start dancing, to keep the cold from setting into the muscles. But the slightest move would cause a slip now and send my body straight of this cliff.
The clouds have cleared a little and now I can see the ridge. It’s not that far, why did I come out here alone. The weather was good when I set out this morning; I knew I was still in shape for this. I had forgotten the weather could change so quickly up here.
Half an hour passes, the sky is turning blue again and I can see the way forward. I shift my grip and arch up on my hind legs moving some of the pressure onto my knees, I gulp in breath. I push and pull and grunt and climb. I pull myself with little dignity left on to the grass at the top of this cliff. I lie there exhausted, to exhausted to move my ribs hurt with every breath, but I, am alive.
The next morning I, am back at the hotel, the room is a mess you cannot see the floor for equipment. I am sat at the end of the bed, thinking about whether to open the laptop. I am meant to be on holiday. I cannot resist. I flick the top open and hit the power button. 190 new e-mails 23 marked urgent. I’d planned to climb again today; this time with a guide and safety ropes, yesterday was fun but a little much for my jagged nerves. Damn don’t they know I, am on holiday?
I need time to think to get my head together peoples jobs depend getting everything right. It’s been like this for months it’s not like I, am the only guy trying to work towards a solution. I open one of the e-mails marked urgent. What the hell is this they’ve got a whole team working on this in Singapore? Even a man in my position needs a break.
I pushed on through law school, all though my twenty working as an advocate on unwinnable cases. My thirties spent in the projects looking for a way forward for the disenfranchised. On the campaign trail till I hit forty five. Something has got to give. Am I past my prime? I remember the old man saying "you make your own prime just in everyday living".
I’ve spent my whole life climbing one way or another, it is all just a matter of priorities and knowing what really matters. I unpack my travel bag; I’ve got a mountain to climb.
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