Climbing
An original flash fiction story, written by Duleepa Wijayawardhana as edited by Lisa Mathew
© 2025 Duleepa Wijayawardhana, edited by Lisa Mathew
All rights reserved. This is an original piece of fiction.
Featured in Episode 30: The magic of story editing
The journey started easily.
His daughter had waved him off at her house.
I’ll be back, he had said. Just one more time. I can still do it.
The unending path through the plains was slow with the burden of packs and gear... then foothills emerged under the silent massifs like roots leading up to the trunk.
He knew the dangers ahead but breathed in the sights once more.
Up at the first incline.
Now quickly down.
A valley.
Across a stream.
The sandy scree up the other side.
One step up.
Two sliding steps down, scrambling up to the base of the cliff under the first summit.
He had climbed the mountain with his wife. They had chatted away every sliding step. Look at that wildflower! Was that an eagle... Would you believe they made a hiking pole so expensive? Every climb etched in stone memories, each to a higher peak than the last.
He crested the first summit. Heart pounding, eyes wet, misty mountains falling away endlessly... bluish grey against deep blue.
He had kissed the base of her neck as she lay pale with the machines sounding each breath, her frosted white hair caressing her fine wrinkles as she blinked glassy eyes.
He squared his shoulders for the second climb. His feet slipping on the scree, he descended to the shoulder of the ridge.
He had signed the papers and given her a gentle kiss. A lifetime spent climbing the heights, tracing a path through the wilderness, navigating the boulders.
One more time, one more peak. The ashy wooden box attached to the base of his pickaxe poked a reminder. His bony hands pulled his weight up the cliff, the summit visible across it.
He put down the pack. It had to be just him and her, like it was in the beginning. One arm reaching, one precious clasping.
He could feel the blood in his neck pounding. He dragged himself up to stand on the very point.
A hand on the box, a sheer drop to the front. His past ran ahead at the top of the world skipping along distant peaks, racing to a finish only they could see.
And in the end, there was silence.
The edits from Lisa Mathew
The following images show how the story was edited by Lisa Mathew and is discussed in the pod cast episode “The magic of story editing”
