Slipping was how I felt, slipping from the earth, slipping from the ledge my feet were yet still firm on. The concrete was solid, hard, it was almost trying to reach my feet, to keep my foot on that ledge. To not let me fulfill my wishes of jumping. I could see cars below moving in a straight line, one after the other, unlike my heart which beat at an unusual pace, one beat after another. The clouds around my head were moving around, changing shape, but I had been in the same shape for a year, and I was tired of it. Up so high, it was almost as if I could feel the blood as it moved throughout my body, just like how I could feel the wind pushing me back softly as if it were telling me not to jump.As if god himself was warning me of my desired actions. And yet I stood. As if there was someone in front of me I reached out, but nothing was felt on my cold, soft hands. Except the wind.

© EmmaCampbellc