in the end

in the end

fiction
edward w pritchard

In the end, grandpa used to go back behind the house and stare and stare up at the mountains. They are just mountains, beautiful true, but we couldn't ever figure what he was looking at.

After grandpa passed on sometimes I go back behind the house and think of him while I stare at the blue sky and distant white snow capped mountains East of the house. The wind seems to blow from the Mountains toward where we live. The Mountains seem formidable and far off as I stare at them, especially around dawn or dusk. The sun is magnificent also.