He doesn’t move. Neither do I. He because he knows the proximity of the edge, me because I’m too scared to even twitch. But somehow it feels right. I’m within reach of his arms but I’m also one false move from a rocky death.
The song of the sea is calling.
Come child.
He’s calling too. A whisper in the wind.
The ocean’s in my ears.
Touch my gentle waters. Fall into the foam.
Yes.
The sea grass pushes closer. Gulls call out encouragement.
He’s my only opponent, holding out his hand. Pleading.
No. I’m ready. I’m ready to fall.
--- You should have seen my Mom’s face when she came home from the Christmas party. The kitchen counter was completely cleared off, every...
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