• Vol. 05
  • Chapter 06

Precipice

Sometimes when I close my eyes I imagine myself high up. I am a silhouette amongst a great city backdrop. My world becomes a play where I am at the centre but not under the spotlight. Instead, the light evades me and I am left to watch what is unfolding around me, caught up in the middle, remaining ignored. Maybe I stand up so high in my thoughts because I want to be noticed, yet I am still far away enough that I’m not consumed. Then I open my eyes and I am back on the ground, though I stay as this silhouette. Just a figure in a crowd, indistinguishable from a sea of faces when unfamiliar eyes glance my way. A tap on a shoulder. The features of my appearance mould back into form, colour flows back into my skin. I am me once more. A simple friendly “hello” or a smile breaks the solidarity of standing on the precipice. It may be a brief encounter, but for that short time the spotlight was on me. Flowers tend to bloom the brightest when they are cared for.

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