65. An Horse “Walls” Walls [Mom + Pop]
“This insignificance is overwhelming me.”
It was just a hill. No one she talked to was willing to qualify it as a mountain, so therefore it was merely a hill. “Take a deep breath,” her friend said, not unlike the voice of the automated machine announcing patrons of the ski chalet that they were closing down the lift in fifteen minutes. So used to dividing herself in two, she couldn’t reconcile the half of her that wanted follow through with the one that wanted to run to the car without returning the equipment, lock herself in, and blast the stereo until everyone else was ready to return to town. Looking around at the others, either carefree or complacent in line - waiting for their turn to be scooped up and brought to the top of a very large hill, only to descend downward and do it all over again quick before they ceased operations - her numb toes crinkled inward for a last bit of warmth before the decision had to be made. With her eyes closed she blindly moved forward with her friend and the crowd. Just as the mechanical whirring got louder and louder as she inched closer and closer, she heard her name being called aggressively from a few feet away. She didn’t look, though. She became stolid. Their calls only made her want to follow her more courageous half. Ten years old meant double digits now, she concluded. As she jumped awkwardly to let the chair grab her, the lift attendant checked out and ready to shut things down for the night, the hill won out over the parents.
