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3:19 p.m. - Sunday, Oct. 7, 2012
Story #7
I felt calm as I began the fifty foot ascent up the cargo net. Fascinated by the ground disappearing below me and enthralled by the sensation of rope rubbing against skin. At the top, I felt excited by the prospect of falling. Releasing control to the laws of physics. I crossed the bridge, annoyed by the boundary of the harness. My cheeks pinkened in the autumn wind as the guide set me up for the jump. The girl to my left was in a state of panic. Hands desperately clutching at knots in the rope, mouth twisted in fear, desperation in her eyes. "You can do this," I called out to her. "Ready?" She nodded reluctantly. "One, two, three. . ." I lifted my feet from the platform in the ultimate act of faith and felt my body propel forward. Sacrificing my body to the wind, to the earth, to the sky. I was weightless. I was flying. I was free.

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