Saturday, June 27, 2009

Dangerous Threshold

"And here we are. On the ragged Edge. Don't push me." - Captain Malcolm Reynolds

Every once and a while, I can feel the updraft from the chazm stretching before me. It breathes on my face like the amorous winds from a lecherous drunk. It wants me to jump into it's arms, rocky teeth in a jagged smile as it measures me up.

Will I survive the fall?

The open air, cooled by the breath of the chazm, becons me, tendrils outwards to cool my heated cheeks, dab at the dampness beneath my eyes, smooth away the creases of worry on my face. They even reach out to uncurl my fingers from the fists they had formed during my journey to the edge. Something about me balks them though - perhaps the grim determination in my eyes, not to budge. The conflicting forces ripping at my insides telling me to both fight and flee. The battle is visible on my face. Perhaps they like to watch my confusion, want to see what I'll do - who knows, maybe I would run screaming.

I've lifted my foot and dangle it over thin air, an act of Indiana Jones Faith, eyes open and glaring across to the other side, willing myself to grow a set of wings and get ON with it.

...And thats how I stand, frozen, suddenly aware of how terrified this chill air made me.

Of course, thats just one dark corner of my mind. The rest of me: keeping busy and staying out of most trouble - except the fun kind of course. Distracting myself from the numb pains and the dull aches, you know the usual.

I think I shall go bowling soon.


1 comment:

  1. Hooray Bowling! (I used to be passably okay at that "sport")