Falling.

16 QUIN 17

The rain was falling hard, and so was I. Falling was nothing new. Falling was second nature. Landing was the troubling part. 

There are certain advantages to falling. When you’re walking, there’s so much to worry about. Falling takes care of that. You’ve got only one care in the world. 

The water at my back and the wind pushing from the front. The incredible view as the lights from the city got closer. These are the things I remember. For a moment it’s almost romantic. 

Turning, not entirely of my control, I see into the windows of those in the hotel, as I had done so often. Their golden cubes, the small beds, people dressing up and dressing down. Who were they? Do they know?

As always, I’d reached just a bit too far. You can’t stand on the bleeding edge without getting cut. I knew that. Sometimes it has to happen for you to remember, though. What it feels like to fall. 

I drifted closer and closer to the ground, out in space, towards the stars. The intense gravity pulling me and letting me go all at once. I saw the neon flash through the tube. I saw the water rushing to the drain. Men’s coats flashed in the alley, headlights reflected off shop windows. By all accounts it was beautiful. The glittering rain, falling as I. 

These are the things I’ll remember.


Damascus.

Progress