Upon A Giants Nose (A Short Story)

Clara transfixed her gaze at the peak, tightly gripping the back pack handle between her small but calloused hands, adrenaline seeping through the open cuts in red fingers, cold and numb. She enjoyed this sort of sensation, read in her brain as the color of adventure however abstract it may be.
Jagged rocks ascended steps of a battered staircase into white clouds of the unknown gateway to the sky. What lies at the end can make a person either condescending and look down upon all those lesser, or in an ironic twist grounded in their surroundings.
Strands of shoulder length charcoal hair performed the dance of the wind in dismay of grey green eyes, for irksome vang's obscuring vision . She stood on a giant's nose careful not to make him sneeze, for if he were to awaken she would be eaten alive. Muscles screamed resisted against a forced march but too battered to break control from a mind set to the top. Butterflies fluttered through her stomach,metamorphosing paralyzing danger into fireworks. ‘Don't wake up don't wake up don't wake up or ill have to steal your nose’
“Shhh quiet would you i'm trying to think!” Clara yelled out to the wind, chest puffed decibels coming from her gut, not mindful of how her own words collaborated with the breeze.
“Don't you shhhhhh me!” the icy air screamed back, rushing in, a coup d'etat to demonstrate who really was boss, not some silly little girl, but the powerful forces of nature.
The wind began to pick up, white flakes of snow fell to the earth, body shivering from anticipation she reached her for the next . Tingles of excitement exploded on the tip of her nose, like a confetti of danger. Reaching out for the next handhold, Clara's hand slided against smooth wet stone jutting out to trip up and mock those who intend to climb onto the head of God. She was not one to be defeated even by god himself if he were to exist.
Hopeless she felt as the wet stone slipped through her fingers, Denial to all save those who can bite off more than they chew. Clara fell back into an endless black hole, a sudden rush to her arms, tightening grip on her fast beating heart, boxed in too small a chamber. Ten billion molecules of air sucked clara down into the abyss, an endless expanse of blank imagery, Jacobi proven right.