"The Ambitions are - to wake up, breathe, keep breathingÖ"
- Golden Palominos

The whoosh of air flutters into my lung.
A parachute has been opened.
No longer grabbed so fiercely in the grips of gravity, the contents of my body settle a bit.
And again.
Slowly I force myself to gather at
My Center.

Look up.
My mouth opens, the incredulous sounds of articulate speech stream forth from its roof.

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