Written by Anthony St. Clair for oneword
November 27, 2006 06:57 PM

He could barely breathe, the way the air barely got in his lungs, the air so thin, so high up — he looked up the steep, nearly straight hillside. His eyes felt pulled tight. The sky was blue above the brown of the hill slope, and he knew, knew with every thin, unsatisfying breath, that if he just get to the top, he would look out over the top of the roof of the world.

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