Beginning Of A Story That Never Existed

The amateur Chocolatier trampled thru the jewelled forest with his gear bouncing and hanging intact until he reached the base of the mountain. There, he peeled off his backpack, his heavy fur coat, his tools, and began to make a fire. Staring into the flames, clutching a tin cup of hot cocoa, he pondered the ascent towards Widow's Peak that he'd embark on at daybreak. He understood his mission well. He was confident in a way that also breeds caution. He studied his map one last time, took two yellow pills and then, wrapped in fine-fibered sleeping bag, laid his body down next to the dying fire as rickshaw wolves howled in the distance and a big half moon peeked out behind an enourmous dark cloud.