I am lucid. This spiral staircase that soars into the clear azure sky? Real enough.
Mine will be the most rapid ascent! The most glorious!
My pride betrays me. A storm expands from nowhere, gyrates and swoops to envelop me. Winds lash out.
Below, the stairs vanish into Stygian chaos, and the land once dreamed evaporates from my memory. Now I am awake.
Hunched over, soaked, grimacing, with frozen fingers I cling to the iron railing, feet sliding toward the edge.
I can no longer see the sky, my destination, my prize.
But the journey is how we get there.
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“When I write, I feel complete.” – the writer
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