2004-10-26 - 12:21 p.m. Falling 2 The wooden plank I was trapped on was a little wider than my shoulders. It looked off the edge of a steep drop at least 200 feet below. In the summer it was used to sift through gold in the water. There is no more gold, but the water still flows through this plank during the warm season. The sky was a beautiful purple and orange, and the mountains ahead were snow capped as far as the eye could see. The snow was swirling and the air was thin. I can�t imagine what it looks like up here in the summer with the sky seeming to extending infinitely into the horizon. I was wearing these fancy purple gloves that I my sister should have gotten for Christmas, not me. They were unusually girly, but they did do the trick for keeping out that sting of cold that you get when you first touch snow. The snow was thick and powdery, not at all wet, because there was virtually no chance of it melting at these temperatures, even in the sun. The wooden chute was built out of the mountain at a fairly steep angle than sloped down like a waterslide. I would be nearly impossible to climb it unless it froze and I had an axe or a pick to use to scale the ice. The snow was pushing me forward, all around me. The weight at the top of wherever this chute started was forcing the snow forward into my body, pushing me ever close to the edge of the plank. Anytime I tried to get on top of the snow, it fell off the sides, and more snow move forward to take its place. My moment actually accelerated my journey off the opening. It those moments before your death that you really start to understand that you have made bad choices in your life. There was no good reason to be where I was. There was no good reason to hurt that woman at the Cabin. Things can be resolved so differently if only you can think clearly. It�s all about time. When you don�t have the time to think you make bad decisions. When you have too much time, like I do now, you think too much. I have decided that its karma, my impending death. It�s something that I have cosmically earned, like a booby prize that Monty Hall Gave me for picking door number one. The snow shifts again, and my body is brought within inches of falling. There is a black plastic rope that could maybe hold a small dog in the backyard from chasing a squirrel. I can only imagine that it was either used for hoisting water or for actually tying up a dog, though the former seems more logical. I took off my dainty purple gloves and clutched onto the rope allowing my fate to be my own decision as I allowed myself to plunge off the side downward to snow embankment alone. Somehow it reminded me of my first time holding a girls hand. | |||||||||||
