The sun at the tippy-top of the mountain shone brightly on the rocky terrain. One large rock in particular, a long and jagged boulder, jutted precariously out from the rock face of the cliff side. Far below were the tops of the trees shading a deep tangle of branches, brush, and a hiking trail. At the very bottom a brook babbled and bubbled. A hawk and launched itself, spreading its wings, and spiraling in a large circle from the tip of the cantilever stone.
Alice placed one foot in front of the other, wiping the sweat from her forehead. Looking up, she marveled at the enormous stone hanging high over the trail.
How long had she been hiking? She wasn’t sure. Where was she going? Also not sure. She had given up trying to remember hours ago, maybe days ago. Who knew. She didn’t know anymore and honestly, it didn’t bother her. It had become apparent to Alice that somehow, somewhere, she had lost her memory.
Alice paused for a drink of water. Seeing that her water bottle was nearly empty, she felt for her other bottle, in the other side pocket of her pack. This one too was empty. No matter. She saw a brook just ahead, and since she was high in the mountains, she knew that this would be good water. Alice hiked down to the brook and removed her pack, savoring that momentary feeling of weightlessness that she felt every time she took off the heavy backpack.
Alice removed her boots and socks and tiptoed down to the brook with her water bottles and camel-back water bag in hand. The cool moss felt soft and spongy on her feet. She waded into the brook, and as she dipped each bottle into the clear spring water she had a thought. I could live here forever.