By Andrew Romriell


At the top of Mount Timpanogos, I stare off a cliff. The earth stretching miles below: rocks, rivers, insects, grass, trees. Up above, a sunset hiding the bulk of eternity. In hours, stars will wake with the moon and construct their galaxies on the canvas of the universe. But it’s just me. Here.

So, I smile. I scream. My voice rebounds in echoes across the mountainside, my spirit dancing in the zenith of cosmos and sound and being. As oxygen and blood beat beneath my skin, I see him: the boy who had craved a different body, a different life, a different story. I see transcendence in his eyes, the slight upturn of his lips, and here on the precipice, an opportunity

to simply be.

Andrew Romriell earned second place and honorary mention for creative nonfiction in Utah’s Original Writing Competition in 2017 and 2020. He holds a master’s degree in creative writing, and his published works can be found at