The Rainbow Beyond the Mountain
A story of finding oneself
The rainbow’s just over the mountain, on the other side of the fog-shrouded peak.
Cory stopped and leaned against a rock face, bracing his feet against the sharp angle of the mountainside. He closed his eyes for a moment, catching his breath. When he opened them, he could barely see his hand in front of him.
The fog had thickened as he climbed. From below, it looked like a soft fluffy white blanket wrapped around the mountain’s shoulders. From here, inside the cloud, it was a heavy damp thing that deadened sounds and chilled him to the bone.
Make your way over the mountain, and behold its dazzling mystique.
Shrugging his pack into a less uncomfortable position on his shoulders, Cory pushed on. The muscles in his legs burned as he climbed. He kept his eyes on the ground just in front of his boots as it appeared out of the fog with each step, watching for loose rocks and scree.
This mountain wasn’t a difficult climb as mountains went, but Cory wasn’t a mountain climber and this was the farthest he’d ever walked from his home. Every part of his body hurt.
But then he reached the summit.
There is gold at the end of the rainbow, a treasure that no one can hold.
