The Edge.

I wait by the water.

It’s alive?

My skin is gooseflesh. The breeze is warm. I am cold.

Brittle broken bark falls.

Soul tears flesh.

Life.

 

(silence)

 

I do not jump into the water because I do not like to be cold.

It will hurt.

But not forever.

Because

after we jump,

we

float.

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