Edge of the World

I feel endless, eternal. I’m at the edge of the world.


1. Part 1/2

It almost feels like I’m at the edge of the world.

The blue sea thousands of meters below. So distant. I can barely see the white tops of the whisking waves. The clouds are hanging like light, fragile puffs, spread across the air. Above, below, between.

I am doing the impossible. I’m flying. Though a sense of drowsiness is affecting me. The warm, dry air in the cabin doesn’t help one bit. The notes, words, melodies in my ears amplifies the endlessness. The endless sea of water, clouds and sun.

The light weaves its way from behind my path. The afternoon sun seemingly different from this perspective. A familiar distort is completing the scenery. Repeating words, hoarse voice. Comforting distort. Fading, beginning. Simple tone, that feels so modest and so familiar.

Despite being at the edge of the world, I do not fear. I feel no distress. I am surrounded by a surreal peace. So high up in the sky, I can see the world as it is. I am on top of the world.

I’m at the edge of the world.

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