“50% of the world’s population has the ability to fly, The only way to find out is to jump from a height that will surely kill you”.
I stood there with the wind in my hair for what felt like hours, my toes curled over the edge. I had deliberately taken my shoes off on my way up the stairs, I want to be able to feel everything. Maybe I’ll get some sense of what’s going to happen. If this all goes wrong I want to at least know I savoured the small moments life had to offer. This might be my last chance to feel the sensation of stone on the soles of my feet.
I look down to the street. it must be a good forty or fifty meter drop. I stop to take in the enormity of what I’m doing. Am I really considering this? Is it worth the risk?
It’s a 50/50 shot. If I’m lucky then some time before hitting the ground some long dormant part of me will awake and I’ll speed off safely into the sky. Unlucky? Well I don’t want to think about that if I can help it. I know this is only going to work from a height that’s certain to kill me. I know that without my body being certain it’s going to crash into the earth I’ll never be able to fly. Still, am I crazy for trying?
I lower myself and sit down, legs dangling over the edge of the building while I think about the enormity of this moment. The ability to fly, to soar through the air and transcend the limits of humanity. The thought of myself as a distressing pile of mess splattered across a busy high street. I take a deep breath.
The thought has been on the edge of my mind for so long now. I’ve not been able to shift it. Like that one tattoo design you know you’re always going to be tempted by, I know the chance to fly will never stop causing an itch deep within my mind.
It’s inevitable, I’m going to have to jump one day. Maybe today, maybe when I’m ninety. One of these I’m going to have to do it.
I stand back up, unsure whether I’m about to leave the roof via the stairs or not.
I close my eyes and try to clear my mind. I stop trying to rationally decide what to do and instead focus on what my gut is telling me to do.
As I rush down toward the earth, a mixture of panic and excitement flood my system. Is it happening? Is it too late? Should I have felt something by now? Is the fact I’m worrying about it going to stop it? Would overconfidence stop it? Have I made the biggest mistake of my life?
The ground rushes ever closer. I feel like my life is slowing down around me.