I stumbled across this last night and almost deleted it. I hold myself back with my writing sometimes because I don’t want to feel the emotions or remember the memories that generated these little pieces.
After my second read through though, I realized that I didn’t fall. I was able to hold on and I am now on the other side of the chasm.
I’m standing at the edge of that dark abyss. I’m trying to back away slowly but I can feel the ground sinking. If I move too quickly, it’ll give way. If I move too slowly, the ground becomes quicksand, trapping me. Both ensure an inevitable death.
I don’t make it far because I now feel an anchor holding me in place. I’m frantically trying to pry it off. Only a few feet ahead, I see the edge making its way toward me.
And then…the edge meets the anchor.
I twist around, furiously reaching out for anything I can hold on to. My legs go over the edge. My hands find something. My stomach and my chest are swallowed by the darkness.
I’m clinging on with every fiber in my being. The anchor pulling harder and harder. My hands ache and are slipping.