8.06.2007


I am with my family and Scott. We are in Asia, possibly the Himalayas, and we are bound and determined to climb to the peak of a mountain. However, compared to the surrounding mountains, the mountain we aim to climb is rather puny. For some reason, we climb a large portion of the mountain inside the mountain, like it's the Statue of Liberty or something. The pathways inside the mountain are treacherous, with plenty of falling rock and tight passages to squeeze through. When we're about halfway up the mountain, Papa opens up a hidden trap door, and we surface. The rest of the climb is difficult, in part because I've worn running shoes instead of hiking boots. Scott walks behind me to ensure I don't slip and fall a few hundred feet.

When we reach the summit, I realize what my parents didn't tell me; we were involved in a race to this mountain's peak. Our method of climbing the mountain's interior has put us far into the lead, and we've won the race. As I woke up, I remember that I was racing to descend the mountain and claim my prize (and I never knew what the prize was).

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