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What the hell am I doing?

I’ve got it; the reins are in my hand and I’m flying.
Then, I’m falling.

I think it’s more than 10 feet down because when I hit the ground, the wind gets knocked out.

Just for a moment, my body sinks into the mud to become soil again.

Then a flash and a sound like rocks splitting open jolts me up, and I’m in a cave.

Actually, I don’t know where I am, and I just said, ‘I’m in a cave’ because it’s cold and dark, the walls feel like stone, and my breathing is the only thing echoing back at me. There are these little flashes, this one here and that one there; they may just be in my head. 

I am sure I wouldn't know either way because, unfortunately, I can’t find my thoughts, because I can’t find anything, because the reins are gone and, I’m no longer flying.

From somewhere on the other side of the walls, I hear voices; they’re chuckling and laughing and inviting me outside.

“This way!” they call, “Come this way!”

But those voices are coming from every way, from every single way the voices come.

I open my mouth to ask for clarity, but only smooth stones fall out, thousands of small, amber stones.

There is the possibility of choking on these stones, but I don’t.

Instead, the ground opens up, the stones stop coming, and I fall for a while. Not long, just a while.

There is water at the bottom of where I fall, and it’s cool and clear and bright blue. I wonder where the light is coming from.

I keep sinking, deeper than expected, and I lose which way is up or down.

Something calls out, tells me to be afraid, but I can’t be because I don’t hear anything.

There is only bright blue water in my ears and nothing to hear.

Tears are starting to come out of my eyes; my brain feels like it's being caressed by knives.

Is this my Thirty-Thousand kiloliter grave? God, I miss the stone; I miss the cave. When I was there, I could at least feel the ground.
See, I don’t know which way I am going now, but I suspect it is down.
A rumbling stirs the water into bubbles around me, it’s warm, and then it’s hot, and then I see something red.

I think to myself, 'This is the end. I’m dead. There is a volcano down there, I will be swallowed by the lava and die.'

// You will be gone // You will not know why // 

This would be the perfect time to swim, but my legs and arms won’t work.

And when I look for them, I realize they’re no longer there, and I am no longer there.

My body is gone and I don’t know where it’s hiding.

Then there is that sound; rocks are splitting open, and flashes of white hot light shock me again and again.

I hear myself screaming, but I don’t know how. I can’t find my body anywhere.

Do I even have to stay here anymore? In my own head I mean?
I start to wonder if it is the reason I’m going through all these things, if it’s wild and unruly and takes me to places I never asked to go.

But I open my eyes, and I’m lying in the snow. My body is back, and I am outside. The snow is cold, but I am all right. I see the sky above me and know the ground is there below; I’m just in that one spot, not going anywhere. After a few breaths, after I catch my breath, you know, I think to myself, “It’s a good time to fly.”

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