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Falling free, you and me. "Yeah, right," I thought to myself. "That's just the way it outta be." 

The rush of falling is lush with arogance and fear. It's the same substance in the air I remember from my recurring dreams of soaring over little earthtone rooftops of my small South Dakota town. I feel so hopeful on the rise, so boastful to be above the people I grew up with, to look below and see everything from a far the way only the wise and noble could. Priveleged in the moment. The air coats my skin the same as I fall, but this feeling is impaled by the resounding fear of not knowing where to land.

I'ts out of my control. As alive as I am in this moment, even with you, doesn't mask the throbbing force of gravity pulling me, the same pulse that makes me hold my breath as I desperately wait, wondering where I stand with you. 

"Where do you think she is right now?"

"I dunno. Anywhere ... up there."

"Well I think she's everywhere."

"Really?"

"Yeah, everywhere. I think mommy is all over. Maybe up in the clouds...
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