At altitude

July 30, 2013

She was both at the surface and higher up than she’d ever been, clouds so close she could almost scrape her fingernails through the wisps trailing below them. She felt as if she were beginning something new, yet old, something borrowed from a former life.

Is it time to turn around yet? she asked, though she was the only one there to hear it. She remembered someone telling her, once, that people talk to themselves more often at altitude. Have I gone far enough to learn my lesson?

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