The Art of Terror

JUMP
I stand on the edge of a crane, my toes over the edge, water shimmering below. My mouth is dry, my feet are numb. I don't have glasses or corrective lenses on, so I just see the sprawling gray of doom below me.

The dive master gives me instructions: "I'm going to count down from five. When I'm done, you'll jump."

My mind can hardly process what I intend to do, so I ask for clarification.
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Published on February 09, 2015 05:33
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