4
Things got worse. My animal trail turned feral and turned a sharp right up the slope and out of sight over a lip made of stones. The reason was because the rest of the road had been washed away by a mudslide and didn’t resume for another twenty yards. I looked across the chasm with a heavy heart before I turned an about-face to the uphill trail.
I clapped my hands and rubbed them together. “Time to find out if you can still crawl.”
I gripped the loosened clay dirt with my hands and dug my feet into the earth and began my climb. Bushes on either side brushed against my face and sharp stones dug at my fingers. To this fun was added the loose soil that kept coming away in my hands. More than once I found myself tottering on the brink of falling backward before I threw myself again
