sophism

United States

Ephemeral

August 20, 2017

She takes a step onto the side of the large, red mass of stone. Ahead is crystal blue water, and behind is regret. 

She gingerly lifts her sun-kissed foot, raising it towards the ocean. It's a calculated risk; she won't die, she will get in trouble, and she'll have remorse in her conscience if she can't fulfill her desire to rush towards the angry waters and jump, to have the wind whip as she drops towards the unknown depths, to have her stomach fall along with her tanned body into the crashing waves. 

It's much easier in her head.

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