The Edge

"Let's go upstairs," he whispered, looking at her from the corner of his eye, as he always did.

But, it's raining," she said, looking outside.

"I thought you liked rain?"

"I do."

"Then, let's go."
They took the lift and reached the terrace. The coolness from the rain hit their faces, along with the spray of droplets as they opened the door to step outside.

The sky was inky blue, an unlikely colour for the city. It was raining, but not that heavily. It was the wind that seemed to be playing tricks. Her skirt flew to her thighs and she had to pull it down, as he laughed mischiveously.

They walked up to the edge of the roof, where the railing was. This was the part that always scared and excited her. Looking down was not an issue, she never had a fear of heights. It was the looking up to the same level and to the sky that caused a pit in her stomach.

The building was 50 storeys high, the tallest in the city. He took her hand, now wet with the rain and stood still. He kept looking down, she kept looking up. Her eyelids hurt because of the water splashing on them.

Everything was quiet. It was an infinite moment, a bible of silence, the beginning and end of intimacy, as they just stood there, hand in hand, letting the rain and height possess them completely.

Then he spoke.
"You know I always felt like jumping from here."
"I know."
He looked at her now.

Blue eyes meeting brown ones.

"What if I did that now?"
"Why would you want to do that?"
"I don't know. Just following an instinct. The final one."
"You would have nothing to gain out of it."
"I would have nothing to lose as well..."
"...except your life."
"It would be taken away from me someday without my permission anyways."

She fondled his head, then kissed him gently.
"I would miss you if you do."
"I would miss you too."
"So, why do it?"
"Because after a point, missing would no longer exist. Nothing would. Don't you realise how beautiful that is, how perfect? Non existence, nothingness.

She looked away and stared at the sky, then muttered.
"Tell me, do you still love her?"
He sat on the railing, then looked down.
"Yes."
"I thought so. Wouldn't you miss her if you died?"
"How could I? I would be dead."
"That's true."

He leaned forward. The cars were miniscule, like tiny bugs on the floor, so far away, other beings in another world. If he landed on one of them he hoped it was not a utility car or one of those big name SUVs. Please let it be a Z4 Roadster. Please.

The rain had stopped. The air smelt of the new and the old, the in betweeness of things lost, of coffee beans, of missed flights.

She looked at her watch.
"I should get back inside. I have work to do."
He smiled at her.
"Goodbye."
She smiled back.
"Never say goodbye. Always say, see you soon."

She walked away towards the door. There was water accummulated near the steps. Before she closed the door, she looked at the edge of the terrace.

She saw him raise his arms, close his eyes and jump. The last she saw of him was long fingers, disappearing in the darkness, like a stick floating in the stream, whirling around for a bit, then gone.

"He's free at last."

Downstairs, the body of a man fell on a shiny, black Ferrari, smashed to bits.