Eyes closed: breathe breathe breathe. I try to forget the incessant beating in my head, the fact that after 8 years without a puffer I would kill a man for one, that my stomach is suddenly part of my esophagus, that I'm pretty close to sharing my two hour old breakfast with the mountains.
Car jerks back, makes one more climb, and I measure time by the Bollywood songs blasting on the stereo. Couple more tunes and the pressure starts to ease. We're finally descending the highest road in the world. My lungs feel familiar again. Step out the car, see the view, and think that was definitely worth the altitude sickness.
I almost glance around to look for the National Geographic photographer, because I have only seen such sights in print, and I imagine most people only get to see such views from their living room couches or their breakfast tables.
Oh look, some mountains. Pass the pepper.
Deep Breath--it's been a helluva year.
Car jerks back, makes one more climb, and I measure time by the Bollywood songs blasting on the stereo. Couple more tunes and the pressure starts to ease. We're finally descending the highest road in the world. My lungs feel familiar again. Step out the car, see the view, and think that was definitely worth the altitude sickness.
I almost glance around to look for the National Geographic photographer, because I have only seen such sights in print, and I imagine most people only get to see such views from their living room couches or their breakfast tables.
Oh look, some mountains. Pass the pepper.
Deep Breath--it's been a helluva year.
Can't wait to see photos!!!!!!!!!!
ReplyDeleteruby
ReplyDeletedon't come home. but come home.
move there so i can live in your closet.
?
I don't own a closet, but do come!
ReplyDelete