– I stand at the edge of the world. One hundred thirty-five stories up. At the precipice. My feet at the edge; my body on the ledge. Everything shrinks below and every wind sweeps up. The top of my head is pressed by a thousand worries. Here, there is no looking back. I step forward and allow my weight to lead. There is no in between. I fall through the remnants of purgatory, that city never finished below the clouds. Through that thin layer of the atmosphere, where pixie dust and magic dust become most potent. Through the watery reservoirs where the clouds collect the sincere tears of children. Past the sconces in the sky where cherubin mold the clouds, shifting their shapes with soft blown breezes. Through the salted space where the world’s oceans cease to be water, just above the expanse of blue where the sun’s rays flutter like the wings of doves. Past the division of earth and sky defined by the horizon. Away from freedom and into that limited space where gravity governs. Then, with a thump, into the softened clay cradle of earth. There is no looking back. Discovery is never behind us.
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