Jumping: a Novel

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She stands at the edge, where he stood. The wind whips her skirt around her legs, persuasive. She sways.
She has stood alone at this spot in her dreams for as long as she can remember, feeling the Void’s call. It always feels familiar. In her dreams, she jumps. She falls and falls, twisting and turning, grabbing for a handhold, a ledge, anything, as panic grabs her breath. She never sees what’s beyond this upending fall into darkness. She never touches bottom. All she’s left with, when she jolts awake, gasping for air, fighting her sheets, is the taste and smell of her fear. She has it now.
What her dreams didn’t have was the massively ancient presence that surrounds her now at the edge. It is as permeating and knowing as wind. It has found her and she will follow.
Every life needs a jump.

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