22. My Machu Picchu

There was a good notch here and good bump there, but for every few goods, there was a bad. My right toe would slip, I would lose ground and dangle for a moment, suspended by fingers jammed in cracks. It was too dark to read the wall, too dark to know how far I had fallen and how much I should fear the climb. I remembered saying Oh my God as I fell from the ledge. I remembered how out-of-place the words seemed, spoken aloud, overriding the muffled drone of the river and the soft tapping of rain on rock. (100)