Flying

As I ran to the edge, I sucked in all my breath.
And then, as if there was an airbag pushing me back, I stopped and teetered.
Do I really want to do this?
To late.
I fell.
The crisp wind wooshed between my toes and through my hair and wrapped around me like a security blanket of cold.
That was when I felt the ground leave, as if it had crumbled into thin air.
That loss of safety made a chill run up my spine.
I was falling.
I whisked through the air and dipped and dived and twirled and flipped and spun and twisted into so many random shapes I felt like a pretzel.
And then, as I spiraled downward, I finally hit the cool water underneath me with the tips of my toes and the last of the wind stung my cheeks before I plunged below the waters surface.
I realized that I hadn't been falling. I had been flying.
And then my eyes popped open. I was warm safe and sound, snuggled inder my covers with the pure, golden sunlight I love shining down on me.