A Day Late (Already)

Clearly, I am off to a great start. I've kept to my schedule with the strict rigor and discipline of a monk. I met every deadline I laid out for myself, and ahead of schedule. Right? Well if you don't count this weekend (who would really, it was Super Bowl Sunday) then I have, and one might even call this a bit early for the Tuesday update. I could do that, give myself a free day for the big game, and no one would blame me. Hell, it would even be easy. I don't have anyone to apologize to, anyway. But I'm not going to do that. This is Sunday's update and as I write this it is at least 20 hours late. Which tells me I need to make this a stellar little story to make up for it.

Off the top of my head and starting after the break, here we go.

---

I stood on the precipice,
the cliff
the ledge
the edge
of turning back or turning the corner.
Of here or yesteryear.

Known ground and unfamiliar places meshed together. Twisted into a mosaic of uncertainty and doubt.

If I turn back, where do I go? Back to the cave, the darkness.
Back to what I know.
But it's a shallow grave that lies that way.
An oppressor dressed for success.

If I turn the corner, what waits? Shining light of a new day or a monster built upon my own fears and failures?

Like Simba I laugh in the face of danger.

I step from the precipice.

Then I'm falling.
The rush of air is exhilarating. A single ray of light pushes through the clouds that hang over head. The ground swells up to meet me, bright and vibrant in a circle just below. My outline shrinks, a dark silhouette against the lush green. As I fall I turn my head, taking in every detail as quickly as I can. My eyes hurt but I try to not miss anything. I see the harsh angles of the stone cliff, the dull grey of marred skies, the billowing canopy of trees in the distance. A bird sings a farewell as I plummet.

Then impact.
And nothing.
Then back into the darkness.

I can feel my body and restraints. Trapped against cold ground by a rough material. My eyes are open, straining to see, but the darkness is overwhelming. I breath slowly, hoping to hear but only the soft trickling of water dripping from stalactites. A tear starts, then a flood.

"I was free... free."