It seems like a free fall, really.
Like when you are 12.
On a roller coaster, topping the first drop.
Veroomph!
Your face contorts itself into disfigured smirks and smiles.
You don’t control the expressions. They just happen.

And, so it is in death.
It’s a free fall.
A letting go of all restraints.
The tension and tears rip away like a massive band aid.
To say you aren’t scared would be a lie.
Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
The graduation of height opens the landscape.
You suddenly see the world from above.
Everything. Everyone is a microscopic version of themselves.

And then it pauses. The ride.
Your life.
Waits. “One Mississippi…two Mississippi…”
It’s not an open invitation to get off, mind you.
You’ve purchased the ticket. A price has been paid.

So, with a slight hesitation, you calm yourself.
You settle into the seat.
Stare at the birds.
Lift your hands to heaven.
Silence. Silence.
The world makes a picture for you.
But, you are no longer in the frame.