I went around the mountain. I got set adrift for sixteen days. When I got to the other side, I saw a ski lift winding down from the top, out to where I lay.
I cried, and kept heading for Lincoln, wondering about the time I wasted, why is it being complacent doesn’t mean you’re not working, just means you’re not thinking?
Finally I hopped on a bus. Sat with pictures in my wallet, thinking of us. And I remembered those days in the wind and the sleet and I realized how easy this whole thing could be.