John was a mountain climber. He loved it. Altitude sickness, freezing your fingers off, and paying a fortune for the privilege. Loved it all. He always said that anyone who wasn’t a climber couldn’t understand, so he never bothered trying to explain.
After enough years, it didn’t matter much anyway. All his friends were climbers, too, and the understood. He lived for the climb. John knew plenty of ex-climbers, just none of them that were alive.
