Thursday, 29 April 2010


How many times had she done this? She wrapped her arms around her body, and huddled in the darkness. But at least it was warm in here, comforting and safe. She’d been out to the edge again and peered over, but she couldn’t see. She’d leaned right over, clinging to tufts of dead grass to stop her from falling, and looked, really looked, but she still couldn’t see. But she could smell, and the air smelled cold and fresh and she wanted to be in it, filling her lungs and shaking out her hair. But it was warm in the dark and her friends lived there. She could hear them calling to her, begging her to come back, ordering her to safety. So she did as she was told. That’s right, they said; you belong here. But she couldn’t forget the smell of the air, and her eyes kept slipping away, wanting to look, wanting to see beyond the edge of her world.

How many times? But this time she didn’t wait for them to talk her down. She didn’t tell them she was going. She got to her feet and began to run. And she ran and ran with her heart pumping and her feet pounding, and she threw herself over the edge and into whatever lay beyond.

Sometimes you’ve got to jump.

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