Continuation

In a dream, Old Grey was hobbling up Alpine Way just beyond the western border of Meribel, heading into the oh so white mountains again. “If I can just reach that bench over there I can rest again,” she says to herself. But it was a struggle, like walking uphill at a 60 degree angle.

Hummie the Hummingbird lept off her shoulder again, trying to encourage. “You can do it you can do it you can do it,” the bird twittered at a rapid fire pace in front of her…

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…then sped to the bench to wait. Faintly, Old Grey could still hear it trilling the same encouragement at intervals.

—–

“Halfway there maybe,” she said, panting.

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—–

“Jesus Christ.” Her whole body was sweating. “And (wheeze) this is still basically level ground.”

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—–

Another round of encouragement from Hummie. “You can do it you can do it you can do it.”

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—–

Old Grey died from heart failure just in front of the bench. Behind it, Pop-up Rock had come out of his hole to see what all the commotion was all about. “She couldn’t do it she couldn’t do it she couldn’t do it,” Hummie explained.

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—–

Old Mabel woke up.

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