There it was. In all it's mighty glory. The mountain, the towering behemoth capped with snow. Up there, Mr. Bullfrog was waiting for him. Allan's imagination had depicted Frosty Mountain as the eighth wonder of the world. But standing in front of it, it didn't look much like a mountain. It looked like a hill.
The foot of the hill was very wide. It would take one about 20 minutes to walk around it. The hike to the top was fairly easy in the beginning, but grew difficult around the middle. At the midway mark, the hill evolved in a rock face with little way through. There were old, broken structures mounted around the rock that facilitated hiking in a bygone age. Now, it was just a reminder that the hill was just a shadow of it's former self.
Allan looked up at the old structures and felt an odd feeling of deja Vu. He saw himself climbing the hill as a young boy. He saw himself along with his sister, mother and father. They hiked up to the then standing structures and went across. At a certain point, they reached a gap in the structures. They helped each other across, and in one of the few times in his life, the boy felt like he was part of a team. When they reached the top, he felt a pound sense of victory at having conquered the view with the help of his family.
"You used to go up there." Sharon said, pointing to the top of the hill.
"I know." Allan said kindly.
Allan felt a drop of cold fall on his head. He reached out his hand and caught a snowflake as it felt from the sky. He looked up and saw a snowstorm gathering above.
"Is it really snowing?" Allan asked.
"No." Robert answered.
"Then I think from this point, I go alone. I feel like I have to face all this myself."
"We'll be waiting for you when you get back." Sharon said.
Allan got out of the car and started his way up the hill. Snow was all around him now, and a hard wind started blowing. A part of him knew that the storm wasn't real, but after a gust of wind nearly knocked him backwards, he started to doubt himself.
"I was beginning to think you wouldn't show up!" Said a voice from above.
Allan looked up and saw his friend, the nice pigeon, coming towards him. The pigeon landed on a patch of snow beside him, then produced to hop joyfully a few times while leaving little tracks in the snow.
"I'm glad you're here." The pigeon said.
"Which parts of this are real?" Allan asked.
"At this point, it doesn't even mater. Your mind thinks all of this is real, so if you happen to get killed by something imaginary, your mind will die because it'll think you're actually dead. Case in point: don't die."
"Got it."
"So, are you ready to go up there?"
Allan looked up to the hill/mountain and nodded.
"I'm ready."
YOU ARE READING
The Frog at the Top of Frosty Mountain
FantasíaA story where nothing matters except for reaching Frosty Mountain. A down on his luck author goes through a series of surreal adventures in order to get some writing advice from his friend, Mr. Bullfrog. Will he reach the mountain? Yeah, probably, b...
