We climbed the rocks, enormous square chunks of red-brown stone. Each block was topped with a thick layer of bright green moss. The blocks were stacked up and up, as high as we could see.
We climbed to the highest altitude on the planet. The air was cool and misty. I wore a sweater, pants, and boots. There were huts at the top. I rested with my brother and a friend's toddler.
We walked out to see the lake. It was misty gray, settled in the red stone. The toddler fell in; I jumped in after him, instantly marveling at my bravery. We fished him out, my brother and I.
I started to swim. "Come out, it's too cold!" my brother called.
"No, it's warm, I'm going to swim," I replied. And it was. Refreshingly cool, not cold at all.
We climbed to the highest altitude on the planet. The air was cool and misty. I wore a sweater, pants, and boots. There were huts at the top. I rested with my brother and a friend's toddler.
We walked out to see the lake. It was misty gray, settled in the red stone. The toddler fell in; I jumped in after him, instantly marveling at my bravery. We fished him out, my brother and I.
I started to swim. "Come out, it's too cold!" my brother called.
"No, it's warm, I'm going to swim," I replied. And it was. Refreshingly cool, not cold at all.
