There are 150 dead bodies that pepper the bluff sides and crevices of Mt. Everest. All were intrepid men and women who lost hope, before losing themselves. Now their corpses serve as road signs for new climbers making the ascent. One in four climbers will die trying to summit her, and at $40,000 a person, I’d say there are better odds in Vegas to lose a fortune.
I once had a dream where I casually strolled through the snow of the infamous “Kill Zone,” wearing nothing but shorts and carrying a back pack with snacks. I remember feeling warm, even sweaty, which at 28,000 feet is impressive.
I wonder if George Mallory had dreamed about Everest before he found himself lying face first in her rocky banks. I wonder if he dreamed of dying up there. I hope to conquer her one day.
~~Story by Ian Russell
Tagged: ascent, corpse, counting, dream, everest, fiction, flash fiction, george mallory, IanRussell, inches, kill zone, las vegas, micro fiction, mini fiction, mountain climbing, summit
