Quirk

I'm standing on a cliffside.
Watching as this tide.
Turns.
So quickly.
And the prickly.
Grass.
Under my bare feet.
Sways in the wind, summer breeze so sweet.
In a storm.
Black clouds block out the sun.
This is the end of the Earth, where I run.
To.
In the rain.
And I sit on the cliff.
Watching the sun set.
Breaking the blockade of clouds.
For just a few seconds.

And it beckons.
Me to follow.
I jump, let the sea swallow.
Me like the sun.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Try to catch my breath.
In the depths.
Of the ocean.
.
.
.
.
.
I sink.
I dream.
I balance on a knife's edge.
Reality or the nightmare.
Which is which.
If I choose wrong, can I make a switch?
Still sinking.
I wake.
Into the nightmare.
-Harry