Without Wings

He teetered slowly, peering over the edge; a high and mighty place, a sheer cliff, a sky scraping loft, it did not matter. He was fearless, senseless, drunk with the desire to step forth and leap down. Leap directly to the concrete ground below where he knows that there will be no returning from.

The dismal thought itself had the counter effect, not only did it not pose as deterrence but rather the morbidity of falling to his death intrigued him greatly.

Suicide will be the best story he will ever write.

The nippy winds above gently swept across his face and feet. Whispering to him, telling him to take the jump.

***

A carelessly thrown piece of evidence, a silent whisper in another's ear.
Hidden agendas, the deadliest of weapons.

-Zarae.Jump