Member-only story
The Cliff
I’m not sure how I got there, but it was obvious there was no turning back. I was standing on colorless ground, hard clay-like soil which extended ahead for a hundred meters before ending precipitously. Beyond was nothing. No skies or clouds, no shimmering stars. Nothing but sinking shades of gray.
The scene was unlike any I’d ever seen. My instinctive reaction was unbridled panic. A rampaging beast had been unleashed within my chest, pounding with all its might in a desperate attempt to escape. Crumbling under the barrage of blows, my lungs retreated, leaving me to struggle with short, labored breaths. I pressed down on my sternum with all my might, hoping the beast would back down, all the while begging my memory to shore up a solution.
There must be something in there, in all the decades I’d spent studying, learning. What was it all for if not this?
As I was spiraling, a familiar face reached out to greet me. Through the walls of my torment I recognized the friendly, wrinkled features of my high school biology teacher, Mr. Steinbauer. I’d always loved his lessons. He would ask a thought-provoking question, then sit gently on his desk, stroke his stubby gray beard and wait for a student to come forward. As long as anybody tried their best to answer, he’d leap up, point at the enterprising student and roar with enthusiasm, “Yes, yes, you’ve got it!”
