Stretching without blemish from one side of the big round earth to the other, the blue blanket was perfect but for a single dreary speck.
How can so much space feel so suffocating?
For what felt like hours, the whole world seemed frozen below me. Jagged, snow-capped mountains rose on my left. Endless jungles stretched toward the horizon on my right. And cutting across both, a bleached-leather belt of sand holding back the sparkling ocean. Somewhere, out on that big ocean, my father sailed. That's how I always imagined him. Sailing.
Except for a cool breeze, the world was silent. It seemed as if I could stay up there forever, like I was flying.
First, the mountains and hills lumbered toward me like big bullies begging for a fight.
Then houses and barns popped out of the ground, clumped together into towns and cities. And directly below me, a castle. My castle. Towers and walls, reaching out to me like hands from a grave.
Ten seconds later, what seemed like a bit of lint stuck to my eyelash transformed into a living human. Then more. Dozens, hundreds of servants. Working, eating, anything but looking up to see me swooping through the sky like a hawk.
Another ten seconds—far too soon—and the whole world rushed up at a speed that turned my stomach.
What happens after the falling?
Will I wake up as someone new?
I've never been able to watch all the way to the end. I tried to keep my eyes open, but right before I hit the ground I clenched them shut.