Avalanche

Luis looked up the mountain to see the end of his life.

He watched the snow tumbling down, and though Luis was on skis, he knew he’d never be able to go fast enough to outrun the avalanche. He was barely off the bunny hill – speed was not on his side.

So he stood and watched the snow approach, wondering if he had lived a good life. He remembered the time he had made fun of a fellow in elementary school – mercilessly, cruelly, driving the kid to tears more days than not. He hoped that fellow was now okay.

He remembered the sweet girl he had broken up with in University because he wanted to get with the hot girl, who ended up sleeping with him once, giving him chlamydia, and dumping him for “someone cooler”. He wondered how she was, and if the on campus health office had reached out to her.

He remembered how, when a new position opened up at work, he padded his resume and made suggestions to his coworkers that they probably weren’t qualified, and that he wasn’t planning to apply, so they shouldn’t either. And when the time came, and the resumes were reviewed, he was passed over anyway, so it worked out okay and no one knew.

He wondered if all of this would be okay when he died, when the snow covered him. If he would die in the initial hit, or slowly suffocate underneath. Or maybe die from the cold. And when he died, would there be a God? Would God judge him well, or poorly?

As the snow neared, Luis sighed. He tried to think back on the good parts of his life, too – things he had done well, people he had helped, but it was more difficult to think of. As the avalanche hit him, Luis just hoped it would all be okay.

Advertisements

One thought on “Avalanche

  1. This resignation to death is great. However, I think his thoughts might be disordered rather than set out plainly as they are. Maybe think about writing more stylistically, perhaps in a non-linear swirling stream of consciousness at such a significant moment as this.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s