Writing Prompt: The trail into the mountains was narrow and winding.

Morning all. I hope you are having a fabulous morning. We had a power outage last night so it has sort of thrown off my morning a bit. Everything feels slightly off balance and half of the clocks in the house are lying about the time. At the moment half of the house thinks it is only four am. Whatever time it actually is, I think it is definitely time for a writing prompt. Are you in? Good. Then let’s begin.

I think there might be something here to work with at some point. I’d have to figure out a few things first and then clean it up. But I kind of like the idea of it.

Wednesday, June 9^th: The trail leading into the mountains was narrow and winding.

The trail leading into the mountains was narrow and winding. With the elevation and thick forest to either side it looked a bit like the thin cleared line of trail circled straight up to the clouds and possibly into the sky.

Today the illusion was even more real to me. There was a temperature shift in the night and a low mist filled the world by the time we woke.  By midday the mist left the lower parts of the mountain but remained towards the top, obscuring the upper half of the mountain.

“Or maybe two thirds,’ I thought trying to be optimistic.  The trail wound around the mountain instead of going straight up, the trail cut into its side as though it was the head of a giant screw whose tip was poking out of the ground. With the constantly curving pathway it was hard to gage distance.  Only a short path could be seen at any one time.  It felt a bit like walking in place.  There was little variation in the tree growth that surrounded us. 

Walking through this dense forest it was hard to imagine the city everyone assured me was at the top of the mountain.  The fact that anyone would build a city at the top of a mountain like this seemed absurd. 

‘Of course there is the pathway,’ I thought as I continued placing one foot after the other.  ‘Why have a pathway that goes nowhere.’  I shifted my pack slightly, moving the weight of it to a slightly different part of my shoulders for a short while. ‘Unless it is some gigantic joke,’ I added before I could squelch the thought. 

Everyone seemed so earnest and I was the only one in our party who had never made the trip before.  I looked around at my fellow travelers.  I didn’t know any of them that well but I thought it wasn’t terribly likely that they were all in on one gigantic prank.  They were all from separate groups, most of them not interacting with anyone but their own small group unless absolutely necessary.  There were a few lone travelers, like myself.  They too kept to themselves.  I learned on my first day out that we traveled together for safety only.  There was no companionship on this journey. 

The trail itself helped keep the self-isolation intact.  We could only ascend in a single file.  There was no possibility of anyone walking companionably by your side.  Talking during the day was rare.  There was no enforced rule prohibiting conversation, but at first we didn’t know each other.  Then the path grew steeper and any breath was saved rather than spent in conversation.