Free Fall

We stood at the edge of a canyon, wind in our hair, cloudless sky above, whispers echoing below. Somewhere, a rock clattered free. Dust swirled.

We were eclipsed by the majesty of nature; the moment felt confessional, as if all our words had greater meaning because we were droplets in a river.

“I never told you,” I said, “that I’m afraid of heights? This feels unwise.”

“I won’t let you fall,” he promised, sure and steady like an anchor at sea.

I looked into his eyes, tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, and thought, I’m already free falling.

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