The Edge

The ocean was beautiful—an endless, vast land of blue that stretched into the sky. I stood on the edge of the dock, taking in the view. The creaky, unstable wood rested beneath me. It was rotted, I knew, practically strengthless, but it held. I was able to stand on it without falling into the nothingness below me. The water that stretched into infinity.

I owned a small, frail home. It was made of brick, red as blood, and white mortar that had grayed from time. The home itself was sturdy, just like the porch—old as well, rickety and falling apart. It was one of the first homes built in the little town, maybe two hundred years in age.

But, as I said, it was sturdy. The wood and stone could hold me up, and I trusted it to do so. My weight could hardly put a dent into the bending floors.

On the horizon, I could see the blue sky. It reflected the waters, creating a mirror over my head. But, every mirror has borders. Gray clouds covered the sky above me, setting the perfect scene for the mood I was in. It'd been a rough day, and the heavens seemed to know that. The clouds, I suppose, could have been considered mirrors. They reflected my mood, however—the mental part of me, not the physical. I watched them roll along, blowing along wherever the wind cared to take them.

I had always appreciated the colorful array painted from above. It would take me from soft, shore-like blues, to rose-colored reds. They also always seemed to match what I felt, whether it was love or hate; peace or pain. I had thought before that possibly the clouds controlled my mood, and my mental self was just a reflection of the sky above.

As usual, I would push away the thought before it had a chance to grip.

I spent a lot of time out here, just watching. Listening to the wind, breathing in the cool air, feeling the rough wood on my feet. A silent atmosphere seemed to vibrate through it, pushing itself into my mind and body. Calming me into submission—a submission I appreciated though, not one of forced prestige and pain.

This was why I came out here—why I dared step over the wood.

It may have been the only thing between me and an eternal pit; it may have been the only thing between life and death—but it was there. It was the most relishing experience I had ever received. More than any love or friendship had ever given me.

So this was where I stayed. My time was placed here, purposed towards relaxing myself. It was a pattern I had trained to follow, something that kept me going. It was my revival at the end of a doomsday. This was home to me. Not the house that leaned beside it, not the blue body that preceded, but the dock. The worn and weary wood that came out of the rocks—the foundation of my home.

The deck itself was only ten or so feet wide, hardly five feet long. There was a broken railing in the front of it covering the back or sides. There was also a railing on the ramp that was to the left of it. The ramp wasn't steep or shallow, but a perfect balance to walk down. It traveled down about ten feet, then stopped. The bottom third of the ramp had been broken off, leaving pointy, splintered wood at its edge. The support beams hung of it, dangling over the vast water. Every so often, when the wind blew hard enough, it would swing around. The metal wire holding it to the ramp would squeak, and the beam would turn ever so slowly. This always fascinated me, as the wire would make the sound, but it seemed to come from nowhere. I could see no possibility of the wire making a noise of any magnitude, great or small.

Alas, it found a way.

I watched every day as the ocean came crashing in, the waves hitting up against my rocky foundation. The porch I stood upon would mock the waves, standing several feet above them. No matter what, the waves just didn't seem to reach high enough.

I stood there, for hours, maybe, taking in the sight. Each day was just like every other one. I would come home from work, then watch. Watch the waves roll in; watch the wooden pole swing lose; watch the white sun descend; just watch . . .

Every day it was the same routine. I loved every moment of it. This was the edge that I loved.