It was like a slow motion train going nowhere you wish to go – in the back of your mind you know its destiny is to derail, but you don’t jump off. It’s picking up speed, your pulse quickens – one hand on the rail, your body leaning over the expanse of dirt, grass, and wildflowers rushing at you, rushing past you – but you don’t let go.
If you don’t release now and let yourself fall into the unknown, you know you’ll never escape. Still you hold on to the known.
Looking ahead, you see the bend coming, it’s screaming at you, “JUMP!” Train moving so fast now you know it will never make the bend. The whipping wind fills your shirt, balloons it around you, air and fear prickle up and down your damp skin. You jump. Your body dangles above the unforgiving rocks half buried in the earth below you. You can’t jump. You are chained to this locomotion explosion. You fight to pull yourself aboard. You accept your fate.
The awful sound of metal leaving metal as the train jettisons across the valley comes suddenly, even in the midst of your expectation. But you are pushed from behind, your chain breaks free, and you fall up, up, and away into the clouds, past the peaks of the mountains surrounding the valley where the train crashes at full speed into the side of the mountain of pride that was its fuel.
It was the Summer of 2011 and I was pushed.
More to come…when the time is right.