From up above everything looks so small. That is why she goes parachuting every other month. Its an expensive habit and high. Pun intended. Its so cliche to feel alive when tumbling through the air. The uncertainty makes one’s vision clear.
She needed a reprieve. She had been running on empty for a while now. It was hard to see the trees for the forest but it was now do or die. The ground was bare with dirt and a tiny wire. Should she pull her cord or kiss the dirt?
As she inhaled she knew there was always dirt on her face.
Categories: death, photography, women
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