Thought of the Sensation

“Are you sure you want to do this?” That was Lana, his best friend and the only person Kev could imagine having by his side as he stared out the open door of a small plane at thirteen thousand feet.

“Ummmm…” Kev visualized what was about to happen. He thought of the sensation of wind rushing past his face, grabbing at his clothes, rubbing his ears raw. He considered the jerk of the parachute, the comparatively-gentle descent once it had opened, the mechanics and joy of controlling direction with the steering lines, the disorienting return to having legs, standing. He walked those sensations back to the internal state just before this first jump, the gut-wrenching doubt, his anticipation of the experience, the icy fear of hurling oneself over a precipice, and the moment when he would leap out anyway, despite his uncertainty.

“You don’t have to, you know.” She looked concerned, as any good friend would.

He grinned at her. “No. But I’m going to.” Gut-wrenching doubt and all, he leapt.

Kev opened his eyes on the bus to work. Yes, that was pretty much what it would be like, he was sure. Now he didn’t need to experience it.

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