No More Mountains for You

The 2 a.m. break in the rain left a thick cover of clouds over the North Shore. Midnight purple and ominous, the clouds enveloped the mountains, leaving no trace of the lights on Cypress, Seymour and Grouse.

I knew the mountains were there because I’ve seen them almost every day of my life. Right over there, to the north. Always standing. Always there.

But what if they weren’t behind the clouds? Sure, the clouds were ripe with the memories of the mountains that were allegedly behind them, but what if?

Maybe, just maybe, those mountains might not be there. What if the clouds blew east into the Valley and they were gone?

In the morning, Vancouver would rise with the sun to discover the mountains are gone. Poof. Vanished. No more mountains for you.

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