i climbed a mountain with a man.
my goal had been to reach the top, the highest point, and then leave his carcass up there, as a reminder of rot, to myself and other woman. woman who had suffered.
but when the moment came, i did something else.
we had trained together, our muscles and our lungs. i was honing the tools of my crime, while he thought we were being happy. but you can’t be happy again, after someone broke it and took it and crushed it from you.
we planned the route, my cheeks were flushed. i saw my freedom while all he saw was a mountain to beat. and he loved to beat.
the snow and ice and fear and this plan to kill was hot and cold and hot and cold on me, for months, weeks, days. and then we made it to the top and it was gone. suddenly i was warm and peace was on me.
he danced and he hugged me, as if all the punches had never happened and even kissed me, my dead lips.
“to new beginnings” i toasted him.
“to new beginnings” he laughed and drank.
as he slipped into a deep and drugged sleep, i pushed him from the edge and watched his body roll and fall and break to bits inside and outside.
and then because i couldn’t stand the pain of what i had just done, i jumped off after him.