Phoebe – a small dog who wasn’t known for her jumping abilities – wasn’t allowed on the furniture but after begging every night, her female owner finally said, “OK, Phoebe, if you can make it onto the bed by yourself, then I’ll let you stay up here.” Moments later Phoebe used all her might and jumped on the bed; her female owner turned to her husband and said, “See, I told you she speaks English.”
We stood hand in hand.
Jump, she whispered.
As she stepped up and out a sudden gust of wind blew through her hair, and as it flailed wild and free, so too did her heart, which raced with excitement at the thought of taking that next step. Breathe deep, eyes closed, JUMP…
“Wait – don’t jump!” Carly Ann yelled at her big brother who was ready and poised to plummet to (what he thought would be) his death from the window of his second-story bedroom. “Just give me a minute to get up there and I’ll push you off myself!”
It’s cold up here, but that’s my fault, really, for clippin’ my feathers so soon. The roof is a silly place to jump, anyway, since I’ll have to be able to fly my way down, and I ain’t no bird no more.
Do you think those who jump from high places to their death experience something close to transcendence?
Do those brief seconds stretch on forever?