Rick couldn’t believe he was doing this, clinging to the side of the cliff like a limpet whilst the sea turned stormy below him. Taking a deep breath, he reached up and felt rock cutting into his hand through his gloves. Gritting his teeth, he pulled himself up and started to climb again.
Suddenly his hand hit empty space. Panic rocketed through him and Rick quickly dropped his hand on to the next stone he could see. It give way, coming off the wall like chewing gum. It tumbled from his hand and fall down into the sea. He twisted to see it go and watched as a small plume of spray rose then vanished under a large wave.
Rick scrambled for another strong hold. Found one and pressed himself against the cliff face. He breathed in sea salt soaked stones, which reminded him of the taste of dried seaweed. He shut his eyes and from somewhere deep inside of himself found the will to go on.
He reached up again, felt the top of the cliff under his fingers and began pulling himself over. Grunting loudly, Rick reached the top and came to rest on his knees. Dragging in deep breaths, he twisted around and sat down. His feet dangled over the edge and he looked across the sea.
The waves were raging now in a mix of inky greens, blues and creams. They crashed loudly against the bottom of the cliffs, blocking all other sounds. Rick looked at the sky, which was as dark as a fresh bruise then he felt water drops against his face.
He laughed, the sound carried and echoed around him.
The rain huddled down, soaking him straight through and cleaning him of all the rock dust. Out across the now tempest ocean, the thunder rumbled. Rick laughed harder, loving the feel the cold rain against his skin and feeling truly alive for the first time in ages.