Forgot your password?

We just sent you an email, containing instructions for how to reset your password.

Sign in

  • I got stuck here watching him sleep up there on that high windowsill. So peaceful. Rested. Perfect. I can relate to the position. From the time I can remember I have always clambered up to the higher height in front of me.

    I have spent hours and hours figuring out how to climb the guava tree in my grandfather's front yard. My brother was always three branches ahead of me, and my mother could go five ahead. I loved going up the rubber hills with my grandfather, he'd show me the fox's den, the wild fowl, the rabbit hole. Each summer, he'd whittle a small stick for me, a bigger one for my brother and the biggest one for himself. New sticks every vacation!

    When we traveled with my father to his post in the mountains, he'd allow us to take breaks from the long drive to climb a good, tall boulder on the way. No safety ropes, nothing, just my brother and my father nearby. I never thought of falling. When it was winter, and we were traveling once more through the mountains, I'd climb on my father's shoulders and reach for the icicles hanging over the road. My brother and I had many fleeting, fiery hot, icicle swords.

    When I was in college, I'd take whoever agreed to ride me on a bike up the hill facing my engineering college. I never could get enough of the wind, the sky so close. Come to think of it, when my brother drove down to show me his new car, I made him drive up the same hill so we could sit on its roof and look at the night lights from there.

    At design school, I hung out at the roof of the institute in the night, we had an arrangement of ladders which took us to the top without the guards knowing. During the kite festival, I volunteered with some friends to form a squad rescuing birds caught in kite string, stuck up watch towers, stuck on window sills, in trees, on telephone wires. I have never enjoyed a job more.

    When my father built a house facing the backwaters, after years of moving around the country (he called the house 'The Last Resort'), I begged him to build a small tower too, so I could go up and read and watch the water from there.

    I have a ladder in my bedroom, it's the perfect way to reach out for a book, to choose it from the line, it's also the best place to perch on to have a phone conversation.

    When I was a kid I remember adoring the monkey ladder in the playground next door, I remember climbing once a rung too high, fear took over suddenly, I burst into tears, but I hung on. A big man reached out and got me down. I remember thinking of him as some sort of superhero. I cannot remember his face, sometimes I really wish I could.

    A few days ago a friend sent me a message, a dream she had about me, a friend found it ominous, I didn't.. it read..

    'I dreamt about you last night.
    You were walking in the desert, on a rocky track, pulling a small wood-made trailer cluttered with quaint objects.
    You were so tired and thirsty but so confident...
    Then a plane finally came out of nowhere: you raised your hands up, and a man bent over the plane's door grabbed your wrists and lifted you up in the air.
    You disappeared into the clouds, while the trailer was still lying on the sand.

    I was happy to know that you're about to take off.'

    I keep wondering if I'm being trained somehow to keep climbing for some future task.
    Or maybe I was some creature of the heights before.
    • Share

    Connected stories:


Collections let you gather your favorite stories into shareable groups.

To collect stories, please become a Citizen.

    Copy and paste this embed code into your web page:

    px wide
    px tall
    Send this story to a friend:
    Would you like to send another?

      To retell stories, please .

        Sprouting stories lets you respond with a story of your own — like telling stories ’round a campfire.

        To sprout stories, please .

            Better browser, please.

            To view Cowbird, please use the latest version of Chrome, Safari, Firefox, Opera, or Internet Explorer.