I wake a decade older. Outside the tent, in the far distance, lie the walls of Kilimanjaro. I gaze longingly at the summit, the glaciers seem tiny now, the altitude so distant. A long descent to Marangu through the dusty heat and then through the majestic rainforest at Kilimanjaro's feet. We arrive at Marangu gate to be greeted by the client who had been evacuated - she's fine now. I sit and wait for the others to arrive, my mind slowing down to the pace of the lowlands. I think I have a still look in my eye when the lowland guide arrives and shakes my hand. Down here, down below, the ones who wait for me have dead eyes. The ones who were with me at the top sparkle at me, bark happily. Man-mountain arrives,
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