‘Take my hand,’ he said. But how could I when I could just about hold on with my own two hands.

I tried to find some grip with my feet and thought I had, when I felt the rock break and skip off the mountain side.

‘Take my hand,’ he said, but I could find no hand to grab, no hand to pull me back up.

Empty words, empty hands. I felt my fingers slipping, my grip losing out.

‘Take my hand,’ he said again.

I let go.