fragment

My entry for this week’s fragment. Phrases in bold are required.

I hung with one arm stretched overhead, my fingertips stinging from the gritty sandstone ledge they were curled over top of. My toes rested on the undercut wall in front of me and my right hand dangled straight down, gravity helping to bring fresh blood into my burning forearm muscles. I dipped into my chalkbag and then once again stepped upward, pulled with my left arm and reached high above me. It was hard to see the climb beyond the bulge just in front of me and my fingers and palm slid gently over the rough surface seeking a positive hold. Three fingers slid into place and I gripped firmly with my thumb wrapped over the top. Again, I hung from one arm, this time letting the blood flow to my left arm. I reached up to my gear rack and unclipped a small set of stoppers. Grasping the ‘biner, I turned it around to slip the largest of the three in the tapering slot now just above my head. Tugging firmly, the stopper seated neatly into it’s place. I unclipped the remaining stoppers, returned the ‘biner to my gear rack and clipped my first runner to the protection I had placed, twenty feet off the ground. It’s the beginning of a great climb. I twist my hips to the left, push up with my feet and reach overhead once again with my left arm…

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