A chronicle of freedom.

The man stood tall against the last of the golden sun behind him. The gentle wind brushed  tenderly against the remorseful figure. He turned to pick up a pair of high powered binoculars and took a longing stare down to the world below.  It seemed a million miles away for most people from here but as clear as he could see it, he was a significantly distant from it in other ways. The wind at this altitude stirred his mangled, unkempt, strawberry tresses around like he where under water. His soft features were gnarled by lack of sleep and the obvious strain he was under.

“ doc?  I’m ready” he said softly

Against the only wall on the flat roof of the offices, the half shadowed figure of a man beckoned for the binoculars. Only a trace of his face forced out into the light making heavy dark shadows where eyes should be.

“ we’ll start on the east side. Work your way outwards” a peculiarly melodic voice called as he stepped out the shadows. His face, his posture, his walk. Everything about him was distinctive and unusual.

“ I got to be honest doc I haven’t been feeling quite myself again lately. Nothing you said seems to help me” the distressed lad said cautiously.

The now enlighten shadow man threw a look of concern to his face and tilted his head to his patient.

“ still? the same feelings?”

“ god I just feel so close to alive up here.” he threw his arms open and let his sorrow fly away with the current of air.

“ lets start shall we” the doc said motioning for the patient to not indulge in his unhealthy desire.

They stood side by side, silhouetting the dusk sky.

“Ok Drew. Start beyond the cinema sign” the doc said decisively.  “you can do it.”

After a short pause Drew squinted into the distance and lifted his quivering finger.

“paper. Next to the middle table of the café. it’s a Daily News, today’s edition.”

The doc lifted the heavy built binoculars to the bridge of his nose. He shifted some switches and dials about before lowering them to his side.

“ next” he declared.

“A girl. Red shirt, black trousers and  black hair. Coming out from the chemist.”

“ where?”

“ third road off the main street.”  the man mumbled wearily “ Alan, I mean Dr turning. The thoughts, the dreams, the raw gut instincts. They aren’t  any better. I. . . . .I don’t know how much more I can take. ”

By this time the man had his hand in his hair pulling and ragging at every description of the sear hellish suffering he was in.

“have you been taking the sedatives I prescribed?” Alan said motioning the man away from the edge they had been standing on. 

“ yes but. I don’t want to be like this, I don’t want to live in a world without joy even if it means a world without suffering.”

The silence rushed over them just as the breeze did.

His words where precise and poetic.  His mind was at the last thread of sanity. His heart was driven by the purest desire he knew he could not indulge in. His soul a mess of broken dreams and haunted faith  His body lay as a living reminder of his exasperation for the want of purest freedom caged, restrained in a body that would not allow.



“ I felt it once. Beautiful, peaceful, serene.” he paused and looked to the horizon “and now its nothing but pure torture, torment, agony!” he screamed getting louder and louder. “do you know what it feels like to experience something so perfect . Something so real to you and not be able touch such decadence again?”

Drew was panting, his eyes wide and bloodshot with fear.

“These feelings!” the doctor placed his hands reassuringly on Drew’s shoulders “they are nothing but a simple disillusion. They are not real.  What you are experiencing is not what you think you want. Sky diving is very different from flying.”

Drew irately pushed Alan away.

“How does a piglet know where its milk lies? How does a caterpillar know when and how to turn into a butterfly?  Instinct” his words started to become quicker and more frantic. “a spontaneous or natural impulse. The knowledge and skill without ever have experienced it. Intuitive instinct.”

“ Stop. Stop it now!”  the doc threw his hand across his body attempting to cut through the intense atmosphere “Even if it is instinct. What do you think got the dodo’s killed? There’s a good chance it will not work. Then what? ”

“I cant afford to indulge myself in regular sky diving. I had to take a loan out to do it the first time. My life is falling apart with debt.“ he hissed, turning away to compose himself then he paused in quiet contemplation on the lip of the building.

He started forgetting things, finding things in strange places and saying things he unconsciously knew he meant. He soon began finding himself feeling anxious every so often.  It  became an increasingly common occurrence. Shortly anxiety gave way to panic and a state of restlessness that seized his very being.  He now knew he could not fight himself any longer. It was only a matter of time before he lost his mind. It was slipping away , like acid tide eroding away the last of  his identity and dignity. To let it wash over everything that was left was to surrender. He want about to admit defeat on anyone’s terms but his own.

“I would rather feel it one last time than live a life without.”

He turned and flashed a smile to the doctor. His once gnarled and dejected face had turned into an expression of unadulterated peace.

“ stay right where you are” the doctor cried as he pulled a revolver from his waist band.

“ you shoot me and I die. I fly and the outcome is the same.” Drew’s face still glimmered with the radiance of the vivid sunset. “would you deny me my last joy in life?”

Alan lowered his gun and his gaze.

“ Take in your last sunset for me before you do it. Its remarkable tonight.” Dr Turing uttered before turning for the door.

“I know you tried. But this pleasure is one worth dying for.” Drew’s voice graced the air serenely. “Thank you Alan. ”



Dear Mr Riavous,

Andrew ‘Drew’ Miller.  His case study revealed the true cost of our research. On the 13th of May 2008 he took his own life to end the mental torment of a gift he possessed in his mind but not in his body.  In his honour we have named this ‘Miller’s Syndrome’. I imagine it is of some conciliation to him but his suffering will not go unnoticed. We are now able to recognise the symptoms and take immediate action in not letting the predicament escalate.



Dr A Turing.

(Dr L Anderson)

Managing director of C division.