"Every man has his secret sorrows that the world knows not. And often time we call a man cold when he is only sad."
The perfect man.
Made rough through time.
He lies, yet he is the honorable one.
He kills, yet he is the most righteous.
He is gentle...
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Jun 18, 2019, France.
He was lying in the fetal position beside the mountain wall right now, still shivering despite wrapping his body with the thin windbreaker. He was looking at the first light of the morning. Sunlight was shining bright on the canyon on the other side of the river. Unlike last night, he can think clearly now but the throbbing pain in his head was still there. He wanted to jump down into the river in hunger, thirst, cold, and pain last night. It was a nightmare.
He finished the only chocolate bar he had with him last night. His throat is sore and rough right now due to thirst. The sunlight will warm him up slowly, the blood circulation will again be easy, but what about the intolerable thirst?
He forced himself up and squatted against the stone wall. And he noticed a movement in the corner of his eyes just then. At the same side of him, almost a hundred yards afar.
Was he mistaken? He closed his eyes. Was he hallucinating after a full day of dehydration?
No. He was right indeed.
A girl, almost of his age. She was looking at him standing at the edge of the canyon. His heart started to flutter inside his ribcage in excitement. He wanted to shout but all that came out of his mouth was hoarse gurgles only. He hastily took off his windbreaker and raised it above his head with his good hand and started to wave it.
The girl stared at him for a long moment and then disappeared from the edge.
He leaned on the wall again, frustrated. The girl definitely saw him. But why did she just go off? Or is he hallucinating everything now?
The girl showed up again seemed like almost a decade later. She was kneeling at the cliff and looking down at him, she was just above him now.
"I've broken my hand. Can't climb up. Stucked here from yesterday. Please hurry up, call for help! I am dying from thirst. Won't last long."
The girl nodded and stood up. She was in slacks and an oversized shirt. A rucksack on her shoulder, "I won't take long. Hang in there."
And she again disappeared.
He crouched on the wall again. He was surprised, to be honest. She was Asian but her accent was of pure oxford English.
She looked nothing like peasants or hippies, but what was she doing here in this secluded area? How long she'll take?
He remembered what was up there. there are no populations or villages around the locality. She'll have to go down the narrow road up to La Milline. If the rescue team made it here within four hours, he'll consider himself lucky. He again trembled. Will he last that long?
He hadn't felt this much cold since a night in a cave called Lankester hole a few years back. He started to move his limbs to ease the blood circulation.
