My sister was eating a turkey and lettuce sandwich as we sat in silence
at the peak of the mountain, slumped beneath a massive wooden cross.
Sweat dripped from our backs as we watched fields of untouched grass
dance in the wind below us. The cold summer wind howled and our
hair slashed our faces but somehow it didn’t matter.
Some dirt had collected under my fingernails, but I did not mind –
at that moment I felt clean and grounded and real. I sat leaning against
the wooden cross, and the seemingly insignificant world below us trudged
on while time sat still on my mountain peak.
Written by Isabella Auerbach