You can hardly remember how long ago it was you first set out on your quest; it feels like months. Nor can you recall how long it's been since you last saw another human being; that feels like weeks. Your memories have become so jumbled you find it hard to recall any particular incident at all, but you reckon it's been nearly two days since the last of your food ran out, and at least three since you lost most of your equipment in a snow-slide, and now you are cold, hungry, and all but totally exhausted. It's only some grim mixture of habit, determination, and stubborn refusal just to lie down and die that keeps you plodding on mile after mile after mile. But now at last the mountain range is in sight, and there you know your quest will end.
3rd place (out of 24) in the 15th Annual Interactive Fiction Competition.
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Tip-toes from one cliché to the next without the tiniest bit of originality.