Hiking Alone

One dime-sized, Bluetooth earbud fell out of my ear on the steepest, and most questionably sheer portion of this hiking trail. The path was quiet enough for me to play a high pitch sound and test how far away it fell. It’s not use. The chittering birds, and buzz of flying insects are indecipherable from any other whistling noise echoing through the woods. The view at the top better be worth it.

A rattling warns me of nearby danger, and I tug back my hand when I notice the curled snake, poised to strike my left hand. I freeze. This is why my mom warned me not go to. She swore I would wind up dead in a ditch if I went hiking alone, even though I’m only thirty minutes outside of town. I can’t let my mom be correct, and if I die on this hike, she will win our final fight. How will she manage to tell everyone at my funeral? Hopefully, sneakily and in small groups, but knowing her it will be half the eulogy.

My other hand takes the brunt of my weight as I shift around the still cocked, and ready to strike serpent. My brain chooses this moment to remind me I’m also scared of spiders, and this area is known for those plump, orb spiders who block off paths with their intricately weaved webs.