January 3, 2019
Taking flight, the distance is too great and halfway across as I am starting to fall fast, the impression of speed increases, rushing air pulling around me, fast and cold. I feel a lost faith. I recall an image of the flight and landing from my projected path; it resonates like an echo, as I scream until my throat is hollow and sore and I have no breath left; my mind has nothing to grip onto that reality does not confound. Still moving forward, falling, my path a downward veering arc into the void, time slows to a glacial pace.