Dec 28, 2009
Above a mob of acquaintances, the narrator climbs against a bitter wind, inching up the glass mountain toward a castle of pure gold that is guarded by an eagle. In it sits the beautiful enchanted symbol of happily-ever-after fairy tales. The narrator is two hundred feet above the street. Below him, his rapine acquaintances pillage among groaning knights and horses—who are apparently failed climbers of the mountain.
These acquaintances pass around a brown bottle, speak inanities, and jeer crudely at the climber. As he climbs six feet higher, it becomes evident...
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