Four Seconds

I look towards the heavens and envy the nothingness. The sky is blue and free of clutter. The roar of the ocean calls out to me like a lover lost in passion. Its gentle spray licks my face and I allow it to seduce me. I am only one step and four seconds away from this tumultuous love affair.

I have time to reflect, but the reflection cuts my eyes as my face is pushed through broken glass. I begin to hate again and trip on my moral conscience. I quickly recall a scripture I do not believe in. My weaknesses are many.

I had better move on. I will get over it. I’ll pull through. I always do, don’t I?

So I tickle myself and mask the pain. I drag the anchor and trip over the burdensome chain.

I will play ignorant and act my part in this fantasy that is directed by a lunatic and written by a saint. I despise this difficult role where I am expected to step out of the flames and enter the balanced cycle of life. Were my instructions lost somewhere in the fire during my inception?

On the narrow path to the left of me and to the right, I distinguish footprints in the sand. I feel somewhat cheated that others have trodden on this very spot, on my special ledge. There appears to be no sign of feet dragging, no struggle. It must be the right path for some.

I dare not look beyond three paces on either side. My journey has to end where the normal ones never stop and assess the damage inside. I am afraid of wandering away from the sheep, wolves are everywhere. I am afraid of the sheep following me. I can easily lead them nowhere. Yes, I am a parent.

I concentrate intensely as to not fail. I sink further into soft sand amongst hard rocks.

I am no longer sure if the tide is coming in or out.

I am no longer sure if I jumped, or walked.