Skiing
Next birthday I will be 46. I want to feel alive. I want to wake up early, eat porridge then get on the chair lift to the top of a mountain where the air is deep blue and clear and the air is cold and clear as crystal. I want to hear the click as my boots hit my bindings and the small thrill of fear as I push myself off down the run.

I want to spread my arms and let my skis run free underneath me as the wind rips through my hair and tears stream down my face in the morning sun.


I want to spend all day like this and finish up in a mountain restaurant with a cold beer and a warm heart. My muscles will ache, but they will ache with happiness and achievement.


I want, on my next birthday, to be reminded that I am actually alive and not how I feel right now.... dead.