Shaking, unsteady her hand pulls the handle down, thrusting the heavy door to whoosh out. She rolls bold out into the world.

She has a parachute in the back of her mind of a beautiful time when she got to fly, so if she falls, there’s a lifeline.

(I don’t understand what I’m feeling, except empty. I want to find the bright side. I don’t want to hide. I don’t want to cry. There’s that sadness like a black hole in my deepest metaphorical core as I accept I’ll never again touch you…I don’t want to let go.)