The Rock Climbers
Why do we never hear about the ones who fail?
I have the pinnacle in my sight. But what I thought would be the next, crucial handhold was not marked by a shadow. The shadow turned out to be a discoloration in a flat surface.
And why do you think that, since I got up here, I can get down? It's not simply a matter of reversing what I have already done. The movements are different. The muscles are different. The shifting of weight is different. What I can see is different. And I might be too enervated to do it in any case.
And so I cling until I can cling no more.
Even the goats fail. A mother teaching the art to her offspring. She falls to her death before their eyes. But they carry on as they must.