Over The Edge
Over The Edge
I never knew there was an edge until there it was, right in front of me. It was a long, dragged out week and nothing seemed to go right. The simplest thing like pouring a glass of milk turned out to be a white countertop. Pulling my car into the garage as the door closed onto the windshield crushing glass all over me as well as the car. I let everything go, all the frustration and anger just built up all week. Until Friday when I went for a walk and got chased by a neighborhood pit bull – he got a huge chunk of my leg. The dog’s owner saw the whole thing and grabbed his dog, yelling at him, “I hope the gentleman’s leg filled you up because that’s it, no food for you tonight.” I felt bad for the dog, hoping he was full, but at the same time I knew I wouldn’t be able to tolerate another bite. I wrapped up the wound and continued on my after-dinner Friday night walk through the neighborhood. I was over the whole dog thing when I was struck in the head by bird feces. I began to literally get hot headed; I wandered onto the road and nearly got struck by an oncoming car. The man gave me the finger, and I yelled back some obscenities. He gave chase, and I ran and ran throughout the neighborhood. There was no more land, but a cliff ahead. As I was stung by a bee, I burst out, “enough is enough.” Then I realized I was falling. I heard voices yelling, “he went over the edge.” I realized I was literally OVER THE EDGE.
