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The Storm Cloud Over My Head

The cold engulfs me like a snake swallowing a passing rodent, whole. Snatching it in a single bite, then unhinging its jaw to slowly digest it. The cold starting in the middle of my spine, infecting the surrounding skin until it hugs me from behind; its  arms holding me tight.

The winter breeze runs in the air, as trees dance like Natives around a fire, their chants filling the November atmosphere. The sound of the city, carried by the calm winds echoes in the distance. The sound of car horns, and laughterof simple conversations, and yelling. The sound of old 80's music, and hip hop runs through the streets. It all sounds so faint, quiet, peaceful.

I look down, face-to-face with the flat, long strip of metal on the edge of the Bayonne bridge. The cars honking, and speeding behind me as my heart beats faster and faster. I look too my left, seeing Jersey City, then to my right, Staten island.

The breaths leaving my mouth like a race car leaving its station. The oxygen leaving my lungs as fast as it came in. My head feeling light, and the tips of my fingers losing feeling.

I suddenly come to when a wave from the Newark Bay smashing against the metal pillar that I stand above. I look down as the water rushes past, carrying small boats with it. The calmly sail under the bridge into the horizon.

My legs shake as I stand on the edge, like a mountain in the middle of the plains. I stand alone, no one around me, no one to stop me. My breaths shoot out of my mouth, quick and shallow, as my body starts to wave back and forth, until I lean forward, and fall.

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