She opened the door to the roof of the twenty-storey tower and scrambled over the barrier. Her vision was hazy with tears and the nearly-empty bottle of vodka in her hand shattered as it fell clumsily to the floor.
Her phone was buzzing with concern, but to avail; she had sunk so deeply into the darkest recesses of herself that she was able to make excuses for every ‘concerned’ person who was trying to contact her. They didn’t care. They really didn’t.
She climbed to the very edge of the building and the phone in her shaking hand fell, lost to the huge drop she was about to hurl herself into.
She steadied herself; took two deep breaths, and jumped.
But this wasn’t falling.
No comments:
Post a Comment