The Universe
She stands on the edge of a rooftop, toes curled over the edge. The night wind is soft on her skin, the fabric of her skirt fluttering gently off her legs. Everything is spread out beneath her, glittering lights she could hold in the palm of her hand if she reached out, cars bunched together at stoplights, crowds of people moving in streams. Up here she thought she would feel further apart from all the life laid out below, but instead she feels more a part of it than ever. A fish in a school, connected and grounded by the lives everywhere around her, yet only a small speck in an ocean unfathomably vast. She takes a step forward, watching her bare foot alone and exposed over the city, balancing her weight precariously on a single leg. She’s never been good at physical balance, body wavering in small eddies of self-correction, but even that feels good. Here, at the end of the world, there’s no more uncertainty.
