Making My Way, page 1

The ledge is only about eight inches wide, but I continue, with my back to the wall, . .a rock wall, unfeeling and cold, craggy and old . . a barren place. . .to waste . .away. I am alone.
Down below, hundreds of feet below . . .raging surf and deadly rocks . .await. For me ? We'll see. Sanctuary is just around the corner.

A cave . .maybe another hundred feet or so.

My fingers are bleeding from holding so tight, I need to do this, and do it right. Another step . . .I've taken one again . . .

The wind is blowing, the rain pelting down . . .so why do I feel like there isn't a sound . . .except my heart . .beating . . .

Will you be there . . .waiting for me ? I think not. I am alone. And maybe . . .I have to . . .atone.

The ledge is only about four inches wide now. I am soaked. I am feeling giddy . . .my pretty.
Down below, hundreds of feet below . . .raging surf and deadly rocks . . .await.

Ah hell . . .you're not there anyway. What difference does it make if I make my way . . . for nothing.

The wind is blowing, the rain pelting down . . . I think I can fly . . .if I try . . .goodbye.