read it.

imagine a huge Spire of rock, in the middle of the desert, almost vertical, with few cracks or footholds throwing itself up into the clear sky, with the sun beating down as it only can in the desert.

then imagine a Rock climber who spent all day climbing to a dizzying height. he fell at the bottom a few times, he's all scrapped and bruised. but he was almost to where he wanted to be, he was almost satisfied. After getting a good grip on the rock, he took out an anchor and pounded it into the cliff to hold him there and to stop him if he fell.

Then as soon as he is finished, a condor flies at him, angry that he had come near her nest, and he goes screaming to the ground. but just a few meters before he becomes a smear on the rock below, the anchor he had secured catches him, wrenching his back, his harness pulling so tight it gives him rope burns that will scar, but it saves his life.

he hangs for a minute, dazed, but being the kind of guy who finishes what he starts, mentally he begins to steal himself to climb the rock face once again.

He begins, but now the sun is high in the sky and he knows that he doesn't have all the time in the world, so he hurries. he places less anchors and rope holds, using the time he would have spent putting in the anchors, to climb higher even then he had in the morning, in half the time. Fairly pleased with himself he pauses to put in at anchor and he pounds it in until he knows it would take a dynamite blast to take it out. hanging there for a minute to rest, knowing he has time to make it to the top before dark, he looks down at the anchor he placed earlier, the one that saved his life, thankful for that piece of metal cast by someone he never knew. Finally he looks up to the top after catching his breath, and decides he needs to get moving.

He steadily moves up the rock with his faster pace of the afternoon. he climbs and he climbs, but enjoying himself and not really noticing the time or distance fly by. he has been training for this for awhile.

but as he comes over a slight lip of rock, he pulls himself over the edge, into to face of a livid rattlesnake. The rattle snake, assuming him a predator defends itself the only way it knows how, plunging venom filled fangs into his arm. Instinctively he leaps back, into nothing. As he falls he lets out a bloodcurdling scream of pain and despair.

as he falls his adrenaline pumped body lets him watch as his hastily put in anchors began to break out as the full force of his falling frame hits them. as time slows down, he recognized the anchor he stopped to rest at earlier as he passes it.

But suddenly he stops with such speed he feels like his joints have been pulled apart. His one anchor has held, and he hangs ten yards above where he had fell to that morning.

he hangs horizontal in his harness, feeling the venom begin to burn through his arm, his back spasming in pain, his harness digging into his skin. he realizes he is not dead just yet, he's in far to much pain to be dead.

he focuses on breathing in and out, in and out. As the sun slips under the horizon, and as the night rains start to fall, he looks up the mountain.

"now what?"