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by : Denys Miroshnychenko

hotel
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With every step | took, | could feel the
weight of fear press down on my shoulders. |
could feel every cell in my body attempting to rip
itself away, attracted to every direction but the one
in front of me. But! knew if | didn’t keep moving,
if | didn’t go through with it, | would continue to
be that same child who was too scared to live
on the fifth floor, terrified of the idea of height.
| could not avert my gaze from the swinging
mass of thin metal wires and irregularly draped
wood towering above the green, jagged trees.
As | dragged each foot in front of the other, the
whispering sea of children parted and made way,
as though for royalty. | could feel their eyes bore
holes in my confidence, and while some stared
with admiration and respect, others leered with
doubt and disbelief. Asingle shout cut through the
chatter, with its message silencing all: “WHO’S
NEXT?” | saw what the other children saw in me,
as | felt the words ‘I'll go” slip out of my mouth.
| knew that by crossing the suspension bridge, |
would overcome my fear of height.

| examined the thin collection of evenly
woven nylon that was to be my lifeline as they
attached it to my harness, and even though |
knew it would be more than enough to support
my weight, the scene common in cartoons played
out in my mind. | could see as the individual fibers
snapped one by one, leaving the protagonist
hanging momentarily in the air before falling to
the ground; releasing only a large thud and cloud
of dust. | arched my neck upwards, and | could
see the column of shiny machined steel attached