i was looking over at a mountain half covered with fog. on it there was a gray tiled/brick path that lead a way for us but turned sort of steeply sideways towards the middle. i didn’t think we could walk through this path seeing how steep it was but my mother urged us forward. i was with my mother and my sister. so we walked fine until that steep part in the middle of the mountain. it was steep and the rest of the mountain faded in fogged. i told my mother we couldn’t go forward. she told me we were. i begged no we couldn’t walk. i looked at my shoes. there was no grip, it would be impossible. we’d slip or something worse. i kept looking back and forth at her in the path. sometimes it looked steeper than others. my sister was silent, emotionless. i was leading us forward, my mother behind me, my sister in back. finally i told her no, no i was not going to walk and we couldn’t walk. she gave up, exasperated. a tour guide came over immediately and started to say, “well, if you don’t want to go this way we can take you somewhere else..” I looked back at the path and thought it maybe didn’t look so steep at all.