It was quite high. High enough to die. Did he want to die? Some part of him yes, some didn't. But he knew one thing: he wanted to fly. To the sky. Why humans can't fly? Yes, there are airplanes, but then you can't feel the wind in your face. Just some flying thing where you have to sit and wait. Where's the air!? We need air! What's going on? Confusing.
He walked one step closer to the edge. He really wanted to fly. He knew it was impossible, but still. He was so close. Until the end would come. End. The end! Game over! You lose! Give up?
Another step. He stood one of these high buildings. The building he works. Wouldn't it be nice, if he really walks over the edge and then...he would see him and...would he fly? He wanted to know. Could someone see his future and tell him? Would he fly?
One step until the truth. What comes next? Tell him already! Freakshow.
The edge. So close. So close. Was he alone?
If he had wings he would spread them and he would know, he could fly, but right now...he didn't have wings. Would someone lend him one pair?
When will that last step come? Last. Maybe first? Still quite confusing.
If he really wants to jump, he should do it fast – someone is coming. Feet, move! Fianlly! They obeyed him!
Did somebody scream his name or he just hears things? Does this always happen before death?
He...didn't fly. What were you expecting?
The sun had started to set. The sky was orange...and pink. Orange was his favorite colour. He alway wore orange clothes.
He didn't fly. The land came closer, but it still was so far away.
He should have thanked him. Thanks to him he felt what it felt to be loved by the sky. When he looked up at the sky, it always smiled at him.
He heard himself say something until all went black. „You ruiend everything. Thanks."
There was a smile.