A Quiet Friday Afternoon

 Out on the edge, the sun shining in.

Fear present, as if the glass will 

s

                 h

         a

            t

              t

                  e

                       r

and I’ll fall

     to my end.

My hand isn’t shaking like it normally does when I’m around HEIGHTS.

I’m sitting down, so it doesn’t seem quite as high as it usually does.

I am a part of the building, overlooking

    everything

People below unaware that I’m

  watching,

       listening,

wondering. 

Hidden from view of those outside, 

                S

             R

          I

      A

   T

but if someone were to come up the S

they might miss me too.

It’s as if they heard my thoughts…

Footsteps approach;

but recede on the floor below.

I lean against the wall now.

Breathe in,

      then out.

Will I fall backwards?

I jump as a car horn HONKs,

escalating my thoughts and fears.

The sun warms my knee.

Should I move into the full light? Or sit

partially hidden from

everything?

Footsteps above, pacing

back and forth.

Fright?

Excitement?

        Nervousness?

Normal behavior

This is like a prized quiet spot at the airport.

Quiet enough for a nap,

small enough

that crowds will avoid it.

The metal creaks as I lean against it a third time.

My fear is less this time,

yet I lean forward again.

My stomach happily gurgles

as digestion takes place.

If the windows weren’t       E       V       E       R       Y       W       H      E       R       E

I might claim this as a permanent study spot.

How far I’ve come in my fear of heights,

even in just this one sitting.

I realize I’ve been leaning against the metal for a minute now.

Two strangers glanced my way as they graced the top of the stairs.

No words uttered,

but they were LOST

They pushed and pulled the door to no avail.

Upon gingerly pushing the second door,

they made it through!

A quiet Friday afternoon.

    It seems as though I’ve visited

      a ghost town