L’appel du vide

She was peculiar, the sort that might just jump off the top of a building. Not to end anything, but from peering too far out into the skyline. Clumsy, little one. She wanted to make out where the tops of skyscraper spires would meet the invisible dots of stars she pretended to map out carefully with the tip of her finger. Like it was better up here, she had one foot flat on the dusty, cold cement and the other dangling two feet back and out into the front page of a funny accident. And the only thing she was worried about was her sneaker slipping off. She was fine between gone and still here. But anyway she was the sort that might just jump to find out what it would feel like to fly for a minute before crashing into the bumper to bumper traffic, the madness she didn’t wanna be a part of, especially if she had to go through it on her own knowing what she knows. “I’ll stay till sunrise,” she mumbled to herself, propping herself down, tucking her legs under her chin, as she felt her own heavy heartbeat knock into herself, a million somethings, and ultimately nothing, then back into a sharpness. She sighed and chose to listen to the city sounds.

3 thoughts on “L’appel du vide

  1. Phoenix. says:

    This is SO VERY beautiful.
    I could relate – the soaring fleetiness of chasing what you wanna do and the heavy stone settling in your stomach when you’re doing what you outta do. You’ve captured this beautifully.
    What does the title mean?

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