2-dollar bill

There is snow on the peaks this afternoon. M (also known as Dr. T, praise be unto him) , however, is unfazed. His lack of a fear response heartens Ia, who trudges silently beside him, albeit a step behind.

It is as if his days are endless in number and his afternoons go on forever. M fears nothing, it seems, not even his voluminous stomach, which now hangs pendulous, reaching for mother earth. He feeds it with the quiet confidence of one who has seen worse times.

Ia interrupts his meal. "Tell me, wise one, why do our lives require constant movement?". M pauses, looks into the distance, beyond the frosty peaks, and thinks hard, as his jaws keep chewing. Ia, impatient, continues "Why cannot we be at the happy place forever?". M hears, but continues deeper down the sea of thought, all the way down to the murky depths where the conscious mind makes love to the sub-conscious.

M burps loudly, and they continue their journey again, their heads bowed, their noses to the earth, their steps conquering the icy mountains.

The future looks as bright as the dazzling afternoon.