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He was alone, on the way to the summit, climbing through the rocks and cold ice. There was no one there to help him. His team had turned back miles ago, but he was determined to climb the mountain. I can’t write the name of the mountain because I don’t have a Tibetan keyboard, but I can tell you the nickname, "Mount Doom." At that very time, there were other teams climbing, yet his "team" was the only one with one member.
The slush was piling up, because there was a snowstorm. He, Jason, would prevail. It was in his heart. No one could be there with him. No one could feel his enthusiasm in this journey, a journey that might lead to his death. He was all alone as he climbed. He felt as if this would take eons to ascend and finally make himself important.
There was an inner struggle, to turn back and face defeat, or to climb and reach glory. Then he spotted an inhabitant of this mountain. An arctic wolf. He froze, hoping he wouldn’t be spotted, be eaten. The wolf smelled him, and looked Jason in the eye. Before the wolf jumped, it heard something. Another mountain climber had just yodeled, and the wolf chased after the yodeler, instead.
Jason continued upwards. He had a time limit. He had to make the summit before his food and oxygen supply was gone. His rations were rather low because the pack animals had turned back, and he could only bring what he could carry. The other members of his team had turned back, just like before, on other mountains. Sure, they would be waiting at base camp, but they weren’t there when he was on expeditions, except but for the first few steps.
He checked his thoughts and continued upwards. If he got distracted again, he would surely slip and fall to his death.
Suddenly he saw some other climbers, on a mechanical device, speeding by. Then his rope broke, the only one holding him. He plummeted, sliding over the rocks and snow until he landed, bruised and stunned, on a flat plateau.
He heard his name "Jason, Jason, JASON, ARE YOU ALRIGHT?"
Jason was at the bottom of the mountain, the hill. Halfway to school, a neighbor was standing over Jason. He had spotted Jason on his way to work. Jason’s old bike lay next to him. His bike chain had slipped and Jason had slid down the hill that he had been biking.
The wolf, that Jason had encountered,
was standing over him, licking his face while the wolf’s master ran for
a first-aid kit. It was going to be okay, only a few scratches; and luckily,
for the first time, he had remembered to wear his helmet.
Jason stammered, "Well, the first day of school in a
new town is always hell, and this one is worse than usual."
Jason was driven home for the day,
to rest and recover. Tomorrow he would climb that mountain again. Next
time he would make it.