Word is Precarious.
Tête Dans Les Nuages
The documentary was about a man. He was French. For some reason that sat well with her.
He was to walk from the roof of one high-rise to another,
on the thinnest rope, with no harness or anything tethering him to the real
world.
Just him, touching the sky.
He looked so free up there, so serene with nothing
holding him onto the planet except his own two feet.
He fell to his death, his fall looked beautiful.
This too, sat well with her.
‘Amore e morte’ she said aloud, filled with a sudden
sense of clarity, climbing the stairs to the roof of the building.
***
As she walked out to stare upwards at the spectacle on
the roof, she thought, ‘I should never have let her watch that documentary’.
‘You’ve always had your head in the clouds’ she whispered
as she watched her daughter plummet towards the earth.
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