http://photography.nationalgeographic.com/photography/photo-of-the-day/camping-yosemite-night/

As the sun set, Mulek tread carefully across the last bit of terrain between him and his destination. His calloused hands grabbed a tree trunk, and he eased himself down to the next safe foothold. But from here, there was nowhere else to go but down.

He took a deep breath. Judged the angle. Whispered a quick prayer to no god in particular. Then let go of the tree.

Dirt slid under his hiking boots, and he careened down the steep decline. He bent his knees, arms askew, and thought he must look like the world’s worst surfer to anyone watching. Which, of course, no one was. There was no one within fifty miles of the dome. That was why he’d come.

Miraculously, he slid onto the little outcropping without taking a tumble.  Stumbling at the end, he just managed to keep his balance. With a deep breath, he looked up and felt as small as he’d ever felt.

The view was breathtaking. Forest and mountains spread out in three directions, and the imposing rock wall of the Dome loomed behind him. He’d wanted to be alone, and he certainly found the ideal spot.

He began setting up his tent. Checking the gear for charge capacity, any damage from the hike, and so forth. Everything was in order. An hour after sundown, he felt suitably installed. He flicked on the solar lantern, unzipped the tent and stepped out into the night. He was ready to begin his indefinite exile.

Standing on the other side of the outcropping was a woman, casually dressed, loudly sipping a lemonade from a plastic cup.

It had taken him a full day’s worth of flights to get to the nearest airport. Then an eight hour bus ride to base camp. He’d left in the morning and only just gotten here. And yet this woman looked like she’d just stepped out of a cab on 42^nd street.

“I’ve gone crazy,” Mulek said in realization.

She shook her head, perfectly coiffed dirty blonde hair shaking with the motion. “You really haven’t.”

“I just wanted some time alone,” he said. “But it’s been so long without human contact, my mind has slipped free of its moorings.”

“You’ve been out here for half an hour.”

“Plus the hike out,” he added.

“Which took the day?”

“Almost all of it!”

“Well it’s been twenty seconds, and you’re already threatening to make me go crazy.” The woman sipped her lemonade accusatorily, and Mulek wondered how she managed to do that.

“I have that effect on women.”

The woman laughed, and pointed her cup at him. “You might be alright, Mulek.”

“How do you know my name?”

She pointed to the slope behind him. He turned to look. It was unremarkable, though he could see the little path of tumbled dirt where he’s slid down.

“You called,” she answered.

“I did?” He was still half-convinced that he was hallucinating.

“You asked to be kept safe. I obliged, but my curiosity got the best of me.” She looked around and pointed. There were two rocks sticking up, in the vague shape of chairs. She sat on one.

Mulek didn’t recall them being there before. The outcropping had almost certainly been entirely flat. But then again, he’d gone crazy. Can’t trust a crazy man’s memories. Thus logicked, he took a seat on the free rock.

“What brings you to my Dome, Mulek?”

“Sightseeing.”

She chuckled. “Tourists in Paris do sightseeing. Or the fools on those rooftop buses in New York. I don’t get sightseers. Not here.”

“Well that’s a gap in the marketplace then, huh? Maybe I’m doing my due diligence on a new business venture.”

“You need a new business venture?” She turned when Mulek overtly flinched at that. Her eyebrow raised. “Ah ha. I think we’ve found it.”

“My mind?” Mulek quipped. “No, pretty sure that’s long gone.”

“What happened?”

“I’d rather not talk about it.”

The woman nodded and sipped her lemonade. Her eyes never left him. “You’re in the middle of nowhere, having a conversation with either a fake woman borne of your broken mind or a real god of a lonely place. If you can’t talk about it now-“

Mulek put up his hands in defeat. “Fine.” He sighed and leaned forward to scoop up a handful of pebbles. He threw them, one by one, over the edge. “I started a company, borrowed money from friends and family. Got an office, worked my tail off, ignored everything else to make it work.”

“And did it?”

“Nope.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah.”

“Which explains the moping half a world away.”

“I’m not moping.”

The woman chewed on the end of her straw. For a long time, she said nothing. Mulek didn’t seem intent on elaborating. So they looked at the view, and the surfeit stars that clawed into life in the dark sky above.

“How long did it take you to get out here? How many steps?” she asked.

“Tens of thousands? Hundreds of thousands?”

“And all of them in the wrong direction.” She shook her head and continued. “It’s faulty logic. Like the idiot in that movie where he thinks if he runs his dad’s Ferrari in reverse, it’ll subtract the miles he put on it after he stole it.”

“Borrowed. Can’t steal your own dad’s car,” Mulek argued.

“Not without putting irreversible miles on it, no.”

“Fair enough.”

She took one last loud, gurgling sip of her lemonade. She set the cup down on the ledge of her stone chair.

“Every step you took to get out here was a step backwards, a step you thought would erase the past. But you and I both know that’s not how it works. You gotta go back. Forget the steps you took before, the ones that lead you to fail and, then, to hide out at my rock. When you leave here, walk forward. Towards something. Click off the step counter and start anew.”

“I can’t. I… I already blew it once.” Mulek choked up, and he tried his best to bite back a wave of tears. He rubbed his forearms against his rapidly-wetting eyes. “I’m scared.”

“Yeah, that’s going to happen,” she said. She scooted closer and put her arms around his shaking shoulders. “But you won’t be forever. Not once you start walking again. Trust me. There is courage in first steps.”