I'm standing at the end of a pier, the lateral wood planks aged, the colour of ashes. I'm aware of four or more persons behind me, in single file. [I do not think about whether I know them or not.] About twenty feet below the pier, & as far as I can see on both sides & to the far horizon, the ocean lies; unmoving under the sun & textured as dull grey hammered metal with random threads of viridian. There are no rescue boats, no helicopters. [I'm not aware of the reason there should be, or what is behind us, nor do I have a sense of fear or panic.] I'm mildly surprised; there is nowhere to go from here; whatever expectations we had haven't been met. Someone behind me communicates [not verbally] "We could jump." I comprehend this could be an irrational thought, as from a high bridge where instinct, not thought might urge them. I look at the ocean, perhaps inviting in its vast, endless solidity. I have no wish to jump. For me, there is one choice. Turn back.
2007-09-27
16:26:00
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12 answers
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asked by
Valac Gypsy
6