It’s the feeling of a word on the tip of your tongue,
just slightly out of reach.
Sitting on a tipping chair,
at the peak of a roller coaster,
the edge of a cliff,
the moment before the
I sit on the bathroom floor, hands trembling in anticipation.
The earth beneath me begins to tremble.
The last few tendrils of sunlight filter through the window, touching my face.
The warmth of the sun caresses my cheek gently, whispering a quiet farewell.
The earthquake begins.
The chair tips.
I am plunged into darkness.