Lightning strikes my leg as my heel touches the ground again and I do not want to lift it, I do not want the storm to come back. But I have to keep moving and so, less than a second afterwards, I lift my leg and take another step, bringing that piercing pain back.
But then I look up and see the Italian side of the Mont Blanc massif… And right next to me are these mighty mountains coated by little boulders. The small rocks slide down slowly, its movement only perceptible throughout the years. And I cannot help thinking that there is something more to it, that maybe the mountain reached greatness and then crumbled or perhaps it was slowly detaching itself from that coat of rocks, trying to reveal its true shape.