Climb | A 100 Word Story

#201 A Hill and I

Her breath was labored as she climbed. She knew it would take all morning and part of the afternoon but her constant breaks meant the sun would set and she had not reached the peak just yet.

It was an annual climb for them. Together they shared things only a mother and daughter would. No matter the weather. No matter how busy they were. They made time for this climb.

This was different. She had to make this climb alone. No one there to talk to. But she reached the top for her daughter, releasing her ashes to the wind.

In keeping with the theme for the rest of November, check out the publication whose name I used for the story you just read. And if you like their writing, give them a Subscribe to let them know!

A Hill and I

Meandering’s on a hill in SW France; a journal of light and love and self sufficient chaos and field conversations…

By Susie Mawhinney – A hill and I

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