I walked with naked fear along the line, never too far from the edge but just close enough to smell the lingering breath, the bitter sweet, the sugar and acid bite. But I couldn’t look. Even though the urge wrapped around my soul, ate into my mind, begged and pleaded for me to move a little closer, to sneak a peak, I resisted. Why?
My eyes. Forced so tightly shut my face ached, hurt, trembled. Hot and cold in turn, a soft but decayed breeze, almost damp, fetid irritating against my cheek. I held my breath, inched with painstaking brevity. Why?
Seconds crawled by, so slow, so went the minutes the hours the days the years. Always the pull to vere away and let the danger take me. Always the effort to keep momentum, to force my way ahead into the distance. Why?
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