A HIGHER VANTAGE
My father died before I was born. Hard on the heels of my mother's swollen news, he leaped from the second floor of his apartment building and survived the fall until a truck hit him. That was the sort of man he was; his man-traits were inheritable.
Most days, I know that when I decide to leap, I will do so from a higher vantage. I will pierce the blue ocean, run windward across the sky. Yet what if, like my father, I have keys only to a second floor window, and no one living higher will let me in?
Man in the Dark