My earliest memory was about blinking.
When I was really little, during the winter I liked to kneel on my bed and look out the window, my chin resting on the sill and my breath fogging up the glass. I’d blink, and something had changed. It was always something small - a bird took flight, another snowflake fell - but there was always something.
I played a game where I had to figure out what it was that had changed before I could blink again. Sometimes it took me too long, and I would finally blink, tears streaming down my face. Then I would be off again, racing against the clock to spot the difference. Blink. A wind had knocked down a pile of snow on the neighbour’s roof. Blink. Now there was smoke coming out of their roof. Blink, and the world became a different place.
It’s winter now. The snow falls around me, and breath escapes my mouth in little white puffs. They hang around my face for a moment before dissolving, clinging to my body heat, however little of it there may be. I shiver, arms wrapped around myself, and look around.
Up here on the roof of the abandoned hospital, the city lies sprawled before me and it’s as if I can see the Christmas trees and lights and presents all still lying out in the living room even though Christmas was two days ago, all the failing marriages and rebellious teenagers and sheltered children who still think the world is a beautiful place. From here, I can see every splintered heart and every shattered dream made of glass that fell through someone’s fingers and died before it hit the ground. From here, I can see myself as if from a distance. I can see the black hole poked straight through my heart and left wide open for the world to look at. I can see the emptiness that hides behind dancing eyes.
But it’s okay. Because all that it takes for the world to change is the blink of an eye. All I need to do to change everything is blink.
Blink.
The snow swirls faster now, so that I can barely see out over the edge of the roof.
Blink.
I’m standing at the edge now, looking down at the street below.
Blink.
I’m taking a step forward.
Blink.
I’m falling.
Blink.
My heart stops before I hit the ground.
Blink, and the world becomes a different place.
