When the path ahead is too steep, step slowly, eyes down.
Thus we climb to the cliff-top, my gaze fixed on the flexing white slabs of his calves, using his bulky frame for shelter – wondering whether he took his meds today.
We reach the precipice; he goes to the brink.
“Here,” he says, motioning me forward.
I can’t trust him, though. Not these days.
Suddenly a jagged semi-circle is gouged between us, as if by an invisible marker-pen.
He tries to step away, too late.
Oh the noise…
Hot tea, warm clothes, a nap.
Then maybe alert the coastguard.
The photo this week is one of mine, taken at beautiful West Bay on the Dorset coast, just an hour’s drive from us. I could have posted a re-run from the last time this picture was used – Erosion – but it seemed some people had to read it twice to understand it.
Happy Thanksgiving to Rochelle, the multi-talented leader of Friday Fictioneers, and to all my American writing colleagues.
castelsarrasin 
Brilliant, Sandra, She shall not miss him overly, ‘twould appear…
LikeLike
I like a practical woman. 🙂 Thanks for reading, Dale.
LikeLiked by 1 person
So do I. No fretting about the useless stuff 😉
LikeLike
I think that a second cup of tea is called for. A grand story Sandra
LikeLike
Many thanks Michael. Don’t mind if I do.
LikeLike
You’ve surpassed yourself here for darkness and character
LikeLike
Thanks so much, Neil.
LikeLike
My goodness, I can feel the sudden release from years of responsibility that has fallen away; just like the crumbling cliff edge. Perhaps a small service instead of an elaborate funeral is called for.
LikeLike
I think so. I’m not one for fuss, and I suspect she isn’t either. Thanks for reading, James.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Dear Sandra,
Not a lot of remorse there. I love the nonchalance of the last couple of lines. lovely photo once more. 😉
Shalom,
Rochelle
LikeLike
Thanks for giving it a second outing, Rochelle.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Pingback: FF – When… | elmowrites
Great photo, Sandra, and a stunning story to go with it. I began to wonder if she hadn’t given him the slightest … shall we call it an ‘encouragement’ at the end there.
LikeLike
Sandra, I want you to know that I posted mine before I read yours 🙂
Actually, our stories are not that similar. I love the descriptive language you used. And that she gained her freedom!
LikeLike
‘Oh the noise’ got me first, and then that last line. Brilliant!
LikeLike
It almost feels like she may have prepared the ground somewhat there…!
LikeLike
I wonder whose idea it really was to walk up there…
LikeLike
Hmm, how much forward planning? Organised as well as practical, I suspect
LikeLike
Not too much of a loss for her I guess.
LikeLike
She doesn’t seem at all upset, relieved even.
I’m constantly amazed by the number of people that stand and even sit on the cliff edge near me unaware that it’s falling away at quite a rate every year.
LikeLike
The sense of relief is palpable. With the ambiguity of whether or not he took his meds, I wonder how real the threat was.
Lovely picture. It makes me miss my days living on the coast of Northern California.
LikeLike
That’s the way to do it! Great photo thanks 🙂
LikeLike
what a bummer. he rose to the occasion only to fall to his death.
LikeLike
Wonderfully crafted!
LikeLike
An excellent story and photo, Sandra. Well done.
LikeLike