I jumped…no I was pushed..no I jumped

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What she said was indeed true and I layered myself in super hero capabilities. I could fly like Superman, cling to walls like Spiderman and be immortal well, like Mr Immortal. I was Lots-of-super-heroes-rolled-into-one Man, basically a Smartie box full of crazy as I walked over to the people in charge of the rope. They strapped me in, my eyes all but bugging out of their orbits. My brain could hear what they were saying and I believe I nodded a few times. If you asked me what the exact procedure was, I wouldn’t be able to tell you. I think the Men in Black appeared and neuralyzed the crap out of me. All I retained was that I needed to jump outward and not just step off the edge.

“Ready?” the sexy one in the too tight jeans asked. I shook my head trying to muster courage from some secret stash inside me. I was just about to step away from the edge when the Muse(I really should be talking about her in capital letters) kicked me in the patooty. Before I fell (barely a split second, wait maybe more like a nanosecond. Where is a scientist when you need one?) I managed to be impressed by the roundhouse kick. The pain only caught up with me halfway down and I roared in anger and fear. The Muse had jumped just as my feet left the edge and she was soaring beside me, yelling at the top of her voice.

“Woooooooooohooooooooooo!” She was flying! I wondered what it felt like to her to be free of the earth’s gravitational pull. With all that weight, it would be difficult to get her airborne and this was probably the closest she could come to it. She needed it just as much as she professed I did. I counted exactly three seconds before I heard her rope twang and saw the frayed pieces as they soared upward towards the bridge. She fell at an amazing speed and I was no longer afraid for myself, but for my Muse without which life would be dreary and dull. The recoil snapped me up and over the rope like a ragdoll as I searched the ground for her.

I saw the heap of white flesh as flew out from under the bridge. She was lying on the bank, her elbow extended and her thumb in the air. She had been flattened by the fall and was spread over an area of six metres; killing all the insect life and flattening the grass which would forever thereafter have a bruised and punished look. Douglas Adams once said: “Flying is learning how to throw yourself at the ground and miss.

They hauled me up and I ran like a mad woman over the bridge and down the embankment. They shouted at me, but I couldn’t care less. I had to get to her. I knelt on the edge of the six metre circle of flesh.

This is approximately what I looked like before the muse kicked my patooty http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HX_5zIXxKEU

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