Anthony looked down, down from the dizzing height of where he stood. The rolling landscape, the rocks, the grass that ran past his view and disappeared into the horizon. It was all there, there the next. It was very tempting. He took a deep breath, inching his foot closer towards the edge. A part of his brain told him it would be fine, that the gap was no more than one, actual foot of drop, if it could even be called a drop. From where he stood though, it was miles upon miles upon infinity. Just as his left foot was half-way across, almost hanging in the wind, he froze up. How could it be fine, a drop like that? He’d shatter his spine, break his legs, probably roll his ankle at the very least. So much trouble, so much effort. Why not just stay up here? The rocks up here were perfectly fine and round-but-not-overly-round, as all rocks should be. The grass up here was nice, comforting, probably free of bugs and errant branches to poke you in your back. The landscape was better, though Anthony was too transfixed by the drop below him to look at it once more.  

He dragged his foot back, but just as it was fully back on the ground, he froze once more. He had traveled so far, gone so many lengths only to be stopped by one measly drop. Was all this journeying for not? All this growth, so much ash in the wind, thrown away at the first sign of adversity? He gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. No, he was god-damn Anthony Fletcher, and he, a machine of power, a true maverick, would not be stopped by such a mere foe.  He had climbed mountains, forged through forests, evaded the most hazardous of dangers, and certainly one more ledge would be no issue, no issue at all.

He decisively edged his toes over the ledge, flexing his foot ever-onward. In no time at all, it was half, nay, three full quarters over the ledge. Soon, he would jump, he could feel it. He could feel his body coursing with conviction, writhing with wrath, raging with rapidity. The time was now!

Yet, as his foot was there, it would no longer move. He had caught a glimpse of the land below. Once again so dizzyingly far, the rocks somehow more jagged and hostile looking than before, the grass drier, sharper. All his confidence drained out of him, scuttling out of the bottom of his still-land-based foot and running away to the security of a nearby boulder embedded in the ground. Who was he kidding? He was Anthony the weak, the slow, the lacking-of-discipline.  He would never conquer this ledge. It was a fool’s errand to think he could. How could he even begin to tackle something so wide, so eldritch in its enormity. Staying up here wasn’t so bad after all. Failure was just another word for accepting one’s station in life after all, never to be moved, progressed, or enboldened ever again.

Then, like a crack of thunder echoing over and through his head, he heard someone speak behind him.

“Anthony, what the hell are you doing?”

As he whipped around, twisting his body painfully, he saw the open palm make contact with his now-turned chest, shoving him. He stumbled, and with his body imbalanced by the turn he had already taken, fell, tumbling over the cliff edge. He screamed, hollered, swung his arms as he fell. The wind rushed past his ears, tangling his hair. His eyes buldged out of his body, the blurr of motion obscuring everything that could be seen as he swung his head every direction it could turn. His body soon to be mangled, it’s over! This is it, this is it, this is it! 

He made a small thud as he landed, his pack quietly jostling at his side. His eyes shut tight from the fall, he slowly opened them, and he looked down at his feet, noticing the foot-high ledge he had been standing on. He was surrounded by a lush, flowing grass just like the type he had been standing on, his body surrounded by miniscule pebbles. Upon the ledge was Ollie, who stepped off and walked over to him, reaching his hand down towards Anthony.

“You weren’t there for a hot minute, guy. Everything good?”

Anthony rubbed his head, taking Ollie’s hand with his other. Anthony stood up, nodding towards Ollie. He took moment to look around. The sky was there, a forest in the distance. It was all green, darker, brighter, pleasantly smooth to the eye. The land felt like it could continue forever.

Anthony nodded, then turned back towards Ollie.

“Yeah, I’m good now, just got in my own head there for a little bit I guess.”

Ollie chuckled, grabbing Anthony’s shoulder for a moment before walking on.

“Well, that’s what you keep me around for. Sorry about shoving you, you weren’t responding to anything I was saying. Come on, let’s get moving, we’re almost home.”

Anthony smiled and quickly followed after Ollie, the two jogging through the field.