A long time had passed since the rain stopped and Carlos kept walking, drenched in water, dried by the sun. The cold wind froze the fingers on his hands. The rocks he misstepped on ate away the skin protecting the bones of his toes. His lungs burnt with fatigue, but his legs still found a way to move. His motivation energized his body. It was human nature, he guessed, to throw away the pain when it had lasted for so long.
After hours of climbing, when the last strands of his energy leaked away from his every pore, he stepped on a tall rock to gauge how long the way ahead was. His sight could not reach anything leading upward. The peak of the tallest tree, a hundred meters away from him, was now a few feet below him. He looked around. No more summits could be seen, no higher points, just an endless horizon.
Tears of joy jumped to the corners of his eyes and he almost closed them, but he could not. He stared in awe while the tears fell. The trees saluted him from afar. The rocks he stepped on on his way up welcomed his rise in glory. The dusk sun, signalling the end of the day, shined upon the clouds beyond the cliff. They joined together like the final red carpet welcoming the emperor of the world.
He stepped toward the cliff, sniffed and tried to clean his eyes with his dirty arms. Then, he took a last step forward and jumped to the clouds. The only way was down anyway. The only color was red.
