The Precipice

I stood on the precipice of the world. I looked down at the emptiness, at the void. My mind refused to accept the expanse and tried to fill it. Flashes, splotches and patterns filled my vision with vibrant color, which twisted and snaked and disappeared when I blinked, only to reform in a new configuration. I was transfixed by these visions created entirely within my mind but which were hitherto unknowable and hidden. It was only when I concentrated that I could even know they weren’t there.

I sat down on the edge, let my legs dangle over nothing, felt my feet be kissed by something that was definitely not wind. There, where all time was waiting and all sound was silence, I heard many voices coming from within me. They clamored for attention, talking over and through each other. They were voices from my life, people I had known, performers, or strangers I had met.

One of them came through clearly, a steady signal through the noise, beating out a steady rhythm, never changing, yet always building, becoming more alluring as the other voices fell away, one by one, or became louder and angrier, while it stayed calm; a familiar, comforting pattern.

It said, “jump… jump… jump…”