On this 1,100th day in a row of Daily Writing Practice, I was all set to be excited and celebratory. But then the Canucks lost tonight, so that went out the window. Bring on the deciding game 7 on Wednesday night. One way or another, it all ends in less than two days.
Right, we're still in need of a prompt. How about: the waterfall.
It wasn't much of a drop, really. Six feet, seven at the most. No rocks guarded the landing, and the bottom lurked far below the surface. Couldn't have been a safer jump, all things considered.
And yet... and yet.
She stood at the top, the water tickling her ankles as she stared down. All the others had already leaped into the thick summer air and were now swimming in lazy circles. Waiting for her.
She should have gone first. She could see that clearly now. But that moment had come and gone and it was a waste to go chasing after it. There were only two options left: jump or be branded a coward forever.
Forever was a long time, but she felt like she could almost see it from up there.
They were growing impatient, shouting to be heard over the sound of the waterfall. It was time. She told herself to just close her eyes and jump. So what if she screamed? Two or three of the others had. All that would be remembered was that they had jumped. That they weren't cowards. Like her.
She turned and fled upriver.