Ascent of Insomnia by Max Gordon

Lost the onsight at the sloping ledge. I really did think it was going to be a jug. By the time i had matched it and looked over the lip i knew i was about to take a ride. I whimpered like a small child who's just dropped his lolly pop in the sand when i slapped desperately for salvation. My impending doom was apparent when my sunshine state sweaty palm merely moistened the ledge. My chest has been hairier ever since.