Here’s a tale inspired by some fairly claustrophobic weather we saw on holiday last week.
You can see the others as you kick at your skis and move forward across the snow. They are there as you are pulled down the slope, pushing your weight this way, that way, this way, that way, feeling the mountain breathing beneath you. They are there as you pause for breath: they answer with muffled words from behind their scarves as you say “it’s closing in”.
Together, you watch the whiteness coming. The piste in front of you narrows; you see thirty feet ahead, now twenty, now ten. If you close your eyes, the world is black; if you open them, the world is white. You close your eyes. You open them. You are alone. Continue reading