a character sketch: that friend.

She sprawled out on her back against the boulder's surface, her backpack crumpling in a careless heap under her neck. Shiny with sweat, her face looked tranquil in the dappled shade, but every breath was pain and an effort to not lose consciousness.

"You okay?" he said, his water bottle half-lifted to his lips.

Breathe. "Yeah."

He chuckled, but only a little. The sun was winning the war on his skin, his complexion turning dangerously ruddy. Sweat soaked his shirt in large upside-down triangles on the front and the back. His brow furrowed as his eyes took in the hillsides of treetops and, in the faded gray distance between a couple of brown slopes, civilization.

She lifted her head enough to sip from her water bottle and then rested back again, closing her eyes. Breathe. He gazed in concern.

Sensing his worry, she said, "Just give me a few minutes." Calmer, shallower breath.

"It's cool; you've worked hard. Take your time."

In the following silence and her eyes still closed, she listened to her surroundings, wishing to meld into the peace of the moment. Birds tweeted in the trees down the path, the rocky ground crunched under his foot shifting weight, her blood pumped through her, a light breeze ruffled the leaves above her. And then, "I'm better than this."

He grinned. "You don't need to be so proud. There are plenty of people who would die of exhaustion walking only half of what you did so far."

A breath turns into a sigh. "I'm weak. But it doesn't mean I can't go on. I'm better than that." She sat up and looked at him.

"Yeah, you can do it!" He cheerily faced the path and began the walk once more. She shook her head at his patronizing treatment but stood and walked on.



All characters and events are fiction, although they may be loosely based on existing persons or events in reality.