Sunday Photo Fiction: The Climb

Photo Credit: Susan Spaulding

for Sunday Photo Fiction in 200 words or less

His calloused hands didn't feel the pain inflicted by the rough stones as he climbed upward. Seeking the best hand and foot holds, he took his time. Scaling a wall like this wasn't for the inexperienced or the faint-hearted. He'd been doing it for years. This was his favorite climb due to the fact no one else ever ventured there.


He took a swig of water from his dented canteen. It was older than he was, passed from grandfather to father and finally to him, the son. So many memories made, so many shared, and yet, so many kept private.

He wiped the sweat from his forehead. The sun was dropping low and soon the temperature would as well. He knew he needed to step up his pace if he wanted to reach the summit before sunset, his favorite time of day.

He took a deep breath and continued till he reached the top. To the unknowing it was a peak. But anyone who had been there knew there was a small flat spot just big enough to sit on comfortably.

He settled in and waited for his sunset.


It took the search party several weeks to locate his body.

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