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We were out for a weekend drive and had stopped at the roadside
for a picnic lunch. It was a beautiful, grassy meadow
surrounded by mountains. After lunch, I asked my parents if
I could explore a little bit, the walked a little
ways into the forest next to our blanket. All of a sudden, looking up the slope of the hill covered in trees, I had the inexplicable urge to climb the mountain to the top. I couldn't see how far it was because the trees were pretty thick, but I could feel that it wasn't too far. I began climbing. The slope was rather steep, and I had to go on all fours at times up the leaf-covered ground. I climbed for quite a while with no end in sight, but I was sure there was something on top of the hill for me. Eventually, I realized that I'd been climbing for a long time and my parents were probably wondering where I was. Reluctantly, I abandoned my quest and ran back down the hill. At the bottom, my parents were frantic, calling my name and running around. It was very hard to tell them where I'd been, and impossible to tell them why.
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