One

You don’t jump, you just keep walking. One step, then another. The edge of the cliff is close now, she can feel the drop but dares not look down. Her eyes fix on a shimmering, far out to sea. Fingers of light reaching down through the clouds to stir the waters, like a scene from one of the stories her father used to tell when she was still a girl and still believed in miracles. She stares at the dazzling light until her eyes go funny, but even when she closes them it is still there, burning. She feels sick, dizzy. Her feet will not move, they will not walk. Her legs shake. Her arms ache, wide open like wings to fly or to plead for mercy. The wind comes from behind, lifting her arms as if to carry her away . . .