ledger main

She feels as if she is standing on the ledge of a building, six stories up, afraid to look up, certainly afraid to look down. The most perplexing thing: she has no idea how she got there, or why she’s out there. It is her mind, again, she tells herself. It is playing tricks on her, again. She wants to blank out, to erase everything, but she can’t. The harder she tries, the worse it gets -- the narrower the ledge becomes, the more gusty the winds, the more shrill the cry of the vultures circling above, which are all in her head, too, for she is standing, in the rain, waiting for the train, nowhere near anything so towering as a six-story building. I can survive this, she tells herself, refusing to move her eyes up or down or side to side, but focusing only straight ahead. Then, she decides to close her eyes, tight, and let herself fall, why, she has no idea, just to do it, to get it all over with, and when she opens her eyes, again, she sees herself on the sidewalk, far below, spread-eagle, unmoving, and for some odd reason, she feels a sudden sense of calm.