Writing: Moment in Time - Storms and Stones

The wind, a mixture of razors and sleet, rip my footing from below me. I slip, sliding quickly down the icy rock, all gained ground lost. I grasp jagged stone with numb hands, my fingers fumbling before gaining an unsteady grip on the harsh granite. Pulling myself to my feet in defiance of the wind snarling around me trying to crush me against the stone, I begin moving forward. Step by tortured step, I climb towards what is now a looming black obelisk seemingly within distance to touch, yet always tantalizingly out of my reach. Ice strikes me, burning me in an odd contrast to the cold that constructs it. I reach forward, my fingers sliding along a glassy surface.

Brushing the stinging ice from my eyes, I look up and see the angry clouds burst open with the desire to topple me from this peak. Reaching into my frost burned bag, I set a spike to the unblemished stone and raise my hammer. Like a screaming child, the wind shrieks, throwing the chill of the grave through my bones. The hammer slides from my hand, crashing with an clang barely heard over the storm surrounding me. Blinding rain and hail assault me as I scramble for the dropped tool. My frozen fingers slide around the hilt, closing tightly to make sure it does not happen again. I rise to my feet and smile at the storm. A crazy man laughing into the teeth of death.

Striking the stone with every ounce of energy I have, I feel the storm around me surge and sag. Again and again I strike, the storm waxing and waning with each strike. Pitiful gasps of sleet slap me across my frostbitten cheeks as I strike without pause. Ragged gusts of wind try to knock me down, but I strike without hesitation. A small crack grows larger, until the stone shatters in a glittering shower of earth. The clouds burst, broken in the sudden sunlight. I see her standing before me, outraged that I broke her isolated protection. I look up at gathering clouds, fearful of what I had done. As quick as they gather, I watch as they break faster. My gaze lowers to her face, emotions streaking across it faster than the swift moving storm above us. A smile lights her face, bathing me in brilliant sunlight. The easy part is done, I wryly smile to myself, now comes the hard part. I step forward, my hand outstretched. Her eyes betray nothing as she looks at me, smiling.