The Cliff

Standing on the edge of a cliff, peering over the edge. My foot nudges a loose stone and I watch it tumble down the rocky, sandy slope. It soon falls out of my sight, but I can still hear it as it goes. There is a slight breeze; enough to dry the sweat that's formed across my nose, but not enough to blow away the almost musical sound of the rock falling, taking other rocks as it goes. Forever changing the cliff face. 10.5 seconds, then silence. Almost imperceptible, to those who did not see it go. But I know. I saw it, I caused it. My muscles still shaky from the long, steep climb up, my mind wanders back to the sign on the path, a warning to stay away from the edge... I decide to sit for a while, lean over the edge a little farther. Something I did not trust myself enough to do while on my feet. The view is wonderful. New and only slightly different from the peaks and valleys I'm used to. I wish I had my camera. I pick up a rock and throw it as far as I can. It takes only 5 seconds to hit the ground. I see where it lands, it seems closer than it should. But at the same time...far enough. As I pick rocks out of the dirt im sitting in, more and more I think how unstable it is, how it could give away at any moment. Especially if I keep taking rocks and hurling them off the cliff. I get up and walk away.