View from the Bluffs

It was her, scrambling out, out.  

For her, it was like swimming, corporeal, through primeval fluid.  For the onlookers, it was as if a forest had been flattened before their eyes by an invisible explosion.  Their puzzlement kept the breath in their stomaches.  My pupils were frozen in the motion of a scream.  

Still she climbed, out, out.  Bits of rocks cascaded down like raindrops, dusting heads below.  I couldn't watch, nor could I look away.  I saw her feet slip.  Cut and bleeding, the stars mourned her poor, aching head.  My head too, was aching, and I cradled it in my hands.  

On my right hand, a silent gull landed, curling in its nest.  My attention, so focused a moment before, was clouded over and held by this silent gull.  I studied the windy feathers crowning its regal head.  I saw the blue of the ocean pouring from its eyes.  I stepped back from the edge, and turned to follow my family.

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