The Great Ski-Lift. Anton Soliman

near the vegetation.

      He felt no repulsion this time round, but instead looked in fascination at the endless chain of pylons running along the mountain slopes. From that viewpoint, the existence of any plateaus seemed unlikely...The ski station now looked like a magic ladder to storm Heaven. Oskar imagined that maybe the project's creator had wanted to open a sort of trapdoor to another World.

      In that moment he thought about reaching the top on his own before remembering he had met Clara in the village.

      He embraced her, feeling the tension drop away:

      - Clara, I love you.

      - Will you stay a while longer? - asked the girl smiling.

      - You know, after meeting you, this place is starting to grow on me.

      - Of course, Valle Chiara is a great place! - she exclaimed.

      That evening he was surprised by the sudden sunset while chopping wood behind the inn. The water in the nearby pond turned a reddish hue. Looking up, he saw the house walls, the windows, the flowerpots and roof tiles being enveloped in a dim light. The eastern sky seemed to be on fire and the setting sun made the winter landscape was almost overpowering. He listened to the valley's sounds in turn: a dog barking, a child crying, hammering on a wooden board, a moving cart. Suddenly, he felt like being somewhere else entirely. In some ways he had stopped. The world continued turning. Was what he saw and felt its effects? Yes, he now remembered what he wrote that day:

      The World Exists Because It Works.

      These were not poetic verses; it was an aphorism that started a perhaps revolutionary scientific work that was now lost to him. No memories seemingly remained

      During the stay in the hotel he had not seen much of his hosts. Oskar usually ate alone with Clara after the owner and his wife had gone to sleep.

      He was certain that they talked to each other and were firm supporters of his prolonged idyll. His appearance was fairly presentable, a city professional with a decent job. All the correct life boxes ticked.

      That evening like always, Oskar noticed the owners had already left the kitchen. The girl was laying the table with a focused and grave expression.

      - You said you loved me the other day.

      Oskar drew closer and clasping both her hands murmured:

      -I am happy with you.

      - What does that mean? Do you think you could live with me?

      - In these few days I thought about staying in the valley forever, because I feel at peace here. I saw the sunset...in the City there are no sunsets.

      The girl laid the cutlery silently, and they both sat down to eat.

      - I think I could be happy with you – repeated Oskar.

      When they finished eating, he poured a drink. He remained withdrawn though, not talking. Clara had been listening carefully but with a different expression than usual.

      - Would you be willing to stay in Valle Chiara? - she asked and shaking her head, added, - I'm not asking you to leave the City and your job.

      There was a strong determination in her eyes. Clara wanted to be with him but seemed reluctant about staying in the valley.

      - I thought you liked living here.

      - Yes, in a way. When alone, I prefer being back here where I was born. It's different if married though...doesn't seem right to live here in isolation.

      He smiled briefly, amused that Clara was thinking of marriage:

      - You said that when you first saw me I looked like a beaten man... Well, I arrived here totally drained because I was not living well in the City.

      - I would keep you company though!

      Oskar found the woman's effortless sincerity unsettling.

      The two remained silent a few minutes. That desolate sensation felt on that first day in the empty forecourt returned: the kitchen turned into a barren landscape.

      - What's so strange about my idea? You're a fully-grown man who is afraid of being alone. I could keep you company. You looked so lost when I first saw you in the dining room. I felt like helping you, so I introduced you to my family, even used my grandparents to make you comfortable. Can't you see I've helped create a welcoming environment for you? One full of familiar objects to help you not feel so alone. I've been good to you, playing an important role; only one women with their innate empathy can really do.

      There was no faulting her logic but Oskar still felt a key element was missing. Her smile turned lopsided: - It's good to be honest in relationships. There is nothing magical about living together; I have outlined the situation in a practical manner.

      Clara was no doubt right, but her candid speech embedded in the conditioning of Tradition was something he was trying to break free from.

      - What you said about solitude is true and you know perfectly where I'm coming from. It's not just about being alone though. It's something worse: I live in isolation.

       - What do you do in the City? If that's not too indiscreet...

      Oskar paused before replying. He had never been very coherent in that regard. With hesitant voice, he tried to explain it in a sentence: My work serves no meaning.

      He got up for the beer mug on the mantelpiece, and returned to his seat adding: - Sometimes I think my work is not even used. Pieces of paper filed away only to be burnt a few months later.

       Oskar noticed the woman looked tired, - When I first arrived, I felt I'd made a mistake. When I saw you at the hotel though, I imagined you could save me.

      - Save you from what?

      - It's not easy to explain. Maybe I thought you had the solution at your fingertips ...

      - Strange, I thought the same thing too! - gasped Clara.

      The Connection

      Oskar stood facing the cable car's forecourt, a mountain bag and skis in hand. A light cold wind from the north had swept away the clouds overnight.

      The manager had happily met his request, after handing over the multi-year pass for the Great Ski Lift. He asked for a few hours to make some final checks on the plant. Oskar would use a guide to reach the plateau bordering the slopes. The guide was a local lad with a stocky build, also shouldering a sleeping bag and doffing a woollen cap.

      - Morning, my name is Mario and the manager said I was to climb with you until the plateau.

      - Great, when can we leave?

      - The operator has phoned the office to confirm everything is ready. We can already get in the cabin.

      From the booth's tiny window, a man gestured with his hand. The sound of whirring motors could be heard. The plant looked like a carousel that stretched upwards out of sight. The two climbed into an oval cabin and sat facing each other, on two plastic seats. The driver slammed the door shut and the cabin started to climb.

      - If I understood correctly, this plant reaches the plateaus – said Oskar to break the silence.

      - Yes sir.

      - How far is the Great Ski-lift?

      - We need to cross the plateau at the pass and then descend. On the other side runs one of the peripheral lines of the Great Ski Lift. We need to leave at dawn tomorrow to reach the Circuit's border roughly after midday.

      Oskar looked up at the last visible pylon, which was glistening with a particular light. As the cabin gradually ascended, the valley's landscape was revealed in its full imposing glory. From above, the village had blurred into a brown smudge of houses with thin tendrils of smoke rising.

      At altitude, the smoke seemed to form an evanescent halo hanging over the whole valley. A vast coniferous forest started slowly emerging until it filled the entire field of vision. The village was