In a few masterful strokes I capture the upthrust and sigh with unadulterated pleasure. Ahh. But fruk, I'm ravenous. One more stroke, and I'll be ready to smack my lips on pretty well anything. The person who said that it's possible to have too much of a good thing must have been the same fool who said that you can't improve upon nature. I turn an admiring gaze from my painting of Mount Rundle's dueling peaks to the monstrous beauty itself, and a flash of light from below the summit ridge catches my eye. Thought so. Just a pack of climbers advertising to heaven that they've arrived. Another flash. Followed by sparks.
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