We discovered it together, a chasm and a crossing, a tenuous bridge of rope and will. She was so excited, told me of every beautiful thing she believed we would find, and ran forward. I tried to follow her as best I could, but I’d barely found my footing before she was looking to cut the cords. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘but if you’re not prepared to take that last step, then I need to move on.’ I looked into the ravine, told her I was coming, and didn’t move. ‘I can’t wait anymore,’ she said, always looking ahead.
Nic
Nic Addenbrooke is a freelance writer, editor, content creator, radio broadcaster, part-time poet and sometimes artist. Nic has been coming to terms with existence for years. He currently lives and works in Brisbane where he struggles to turn the cacophony of voices in his head into things of substance. It doesn’t always work but occasionally produces a nice veneer of sanity.
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