An Organic (Or Synthetic) Glowing, Magnetic, Good-Luck Aura
It was night in the city. The structure was tall and round, twenty stories at least. Due to a building flaw or perhaps malpractice, I found myself on the outside of the high-rise holding on to the bold and delicate design elements. This was outside the ninth floor.
The repeating design covered the entirety of the building and consisted of a trio of vertical and narrow feather-like metal pieces. I was holding onto a single piece. At the beginning of the nightmare I had communication with a female below. She offered positive words. I don’t know the owner of the voice but I’m grateful for the guidance from a fellow human at my precise moment of need.
I had to conserve energy. I had to concentrate beyond assumed capabilities. Every move was envisioned before execution. Every move was a do-or-die situation.
I entered a calm, adrenalized state. Don’t let usage of the word ‘calm’ fool you; this was scary as hell.
After surviving the first trio of metal, I don’t remember much of the rest of the meticulous climb downwards. The next thing I do remember was feeling the bottom, the glorious ground. Some of the people who had been watching and rooting for me were there. I recall an overwhelming sound and physical touch. It was an exhilarating feeling to defeat the odds with a mental and physical strength that is difficult to fathom. Was I not still a fragile creature, climbing for survival, vulnerable to almost the entirety of everything that is?
I began feeling angry that I had been put in this strange situation. Post-trauma seeped into the celebration and it quickly became nearly as surreal as the trek down the building. I found it intriguing to encounter friends and acquaintances when they learned of the incident. In particular, many clearly felt the need to surrender to an organic (or synthetic) glowing, magnetic, good-luck aura. Their instinct was to be physically and mentally close to me. This was surprising and sometimes welcoming, but my skeptical meter had many moments of high readings. Would this not fall into the category of ‘don’t take things for granted?’
Or is strength and luck simply irresistible to humans? In waters of endless uncertainty, we gravitate to success like fish to bait. What happens though when we catch the bait, bloody hook to mouth? What happens when our less-heroic moments are on display? Who accepts our imperfections and weaknesses?
