I take in a gulp of crisp cold air, filling my lungs with it. My palms stick and my heart drums heavily in my chest. The rocks beneath my bare feet have soaked in the heat of the sun that the wind steals out of the air. The landscape rolls out in front of me. Between here and there is a sea of dimpled rock. Huge ravines and gaps span outwards. I stand at the edge of one now.
One. Two. Three. Jump into the void. My muscles scream as I push upwards. The cold blue air rushes against my skin. I have become a bird. Free and light.
When I land it is with a heaviness. The rock is hard and unyielding. My skin soft and exposed.
I take a shaky breath and look back. The ravine looks darker now. Deeper. What if I had fallen? Shakily I press onwards. Put one foot forward. Now the path is clearer and the next gap a comfortable distance, I can truly soak it up. This place is so big. So empty. The sky is a blanket above. The rocks like some other world. Smooth faces with rounded bumps. Gritty under my feet but clean and gentle to my eyes. I walk slowly, extending the time between now and the next gap, the next jump into the void.
This was the second freewritten piece I wrote for the writing workshop I attended recently. We were asked to chose a picture from a small selection and to set the scene of the picture. I couldn't believe it when I saw this one in the pile. I grabbed it and started writing straight away.