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Rated: ASR · Short Story · Emotional · #1910647
Every cell in her body was vibrantly alive, on edge.
She took off her jacket, her scarf and her shoes, opened the car door and felt the full force of a gust of wind. She took off her sweater, her socks and her glasses. It was just her now, with an old t-shirt and sweatpants that hung on her like old friends. The wind wanted to blast right through them but they still clung on.

She walked to the edge; the wind blew her hair so she could feel its cold slap on the back of her neck, stray locks tangled themselves around her face getting stuck in her eyelashes and in her nostrils. The ground was cold and damp, the rocks left little dents on the sole of her feet, and the grass caressed the hollow between her toes. She was at the edge now; she opened her arms and raised her chin. Every part of her was open to the elements, every nerve alert; goose bumps rose and died up and down her arms, up and down her back. She took in a deep, fresh clean breath, it smelled of sea and wet soil and storm. Every cell in her body was vibrantly alive, on edge.

She made two small steps so her toes grazed the very edge, the fine line between safety and the thrill, between stagnation and death. She closed her eyes, although it didn't seem possible, the sensations intensified. For the first time every crevice in her head was full with the fumes of the moment, a giddy feeling rose from her stomach and spread to her arms, her legs and through her head, she was caught up, she was floating in white blissful nothingness, not knowing which way was up, which way was down, impervious even to gravity.

A pulling in her calves and the back of her thighs brought her back. She snapped her eyes open and let her hands go down while she turned around and started walking back. She felt her heart beating, she felt the wet cold stone under her feet and she was calm. She sat down and looked at the edge. She smiled as she imagined the whoosh, the breath leaving her lungs, her hair fanned around her head, the smack and the sudden darkness.

She smiled, closed the door of the car and drove away.

Word count: 388
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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1910647-Wishful-thinking