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  • Writer's pictureWojciech Salski


Updated: Apr 28, 2021

The boy pondered the question, swinging his legs of the side of the tallest building he could find in his ‘as it turns out, not so tall’ neighbourhood, if so, could they kindly step forward and push me over the ledge…?

Is there anyone in this world free of any guilt, bad deeds and mistakes of the past…?

The boy pondered the question, swinging his legs of the side of the tallest building he could find in his ‘as it turns out, not so tall’ neighbourhood, if so, could they kindly step forward and push me over the ledge…?


Wondering of what to do, he digested the pros and cons of the situation he found himself in. Don’t we all sometimes just feel like dying his minds’ brew simmered on a small fire, and if that’s far from truth, how far is it really…? Questions arising within appeared quite spontaneously and were not of the kind that one likes to listen to for too long. It was about time he did something with it all. Looking down the drop between his feet, he realised that he was once afraid of heights. What a wasteful fear to have he pondered, anyone is afraid of danger, but why would you need to be so scared of it that you actually want to just jump off in the first place… He recalled his mother’s promises that if his father is not going to hold her strong enough, she would just jump off because ‘it was all too much to bear’. What an awful fear to have he concluded, truly useless…


His fringe shivered in the morning breeze. It was an early time, just before the whole city would wake up to get another day of work done, and he was feeling refreshed with the gust softly tending to his face. His skin faded away a little since the time he saw himself in the mirror. Apparently mirrors do not show the actual reflection of ourselves he remembered an interesting fact learned from some online article a while ago, what we see in them is a distorted version of the true look… He scratched his forehead in a manner that could indicate an inner dialogue and debate around the aspects of ‘true reflections’, what a weird thing not to ever see yourself as you are… He pondered on the outlook on life that his ego and mind shared over the past years. Something was missing for sure he thought, I wouldn’t have fucked up so much if it was there all this time. His gaze softened, as if something has happened with the interest within. Losing the will to live he reasoned, that’s what it feels like… Looking down onto the pavement, which from such height looked more like a line in one of his notebooks, he inhaled the air deeply. Remembering Armstrong’s ‘Wonderful World’ he smiled slightly, shuffling his weight forward, how far one can go…?


The ledge was close and so was the end of existence. Feeling the morbid state of mind as it was, he felt excitement arising, finally answering the question from his secondary school ‘how does it feel to fall of the height’ and of course ‘how long does it seem’… Promising himself scrutiny over the countdown once the fall would happen, he considered all the times his actions has made the opposite effect on whatever he tried to achieve, it just happens sometimes, he reassured his mind. Everyone makes mistakes his ego seemed to belittle his choices, why would you punish yourself for yours…? Shake of the head left the inner voice dazed for a moment, offering a chance to clean the slate of the mind from those little nudges of selfishness. I have done wrong he announced out loud, his words jumping over the ledge one after another. His hands squeezed the cold block underneath a little stronger, he shuffled forward more and looked straight down, seeing the few morning pedestrians already roaming the street underneath. I wouldn’t want to fall on anyone though he thought, seeing how small shapes moved across the notebook line of the pavement. What if death is just another selfish act his mind teased, what if what I am about to do is just a quick fix of something that needs time to recover…? He didn’t like these suggestions and felt the instant discomfort inside. He was not fond of it, because it felt true. Looking down the wall again, he contested his options. What if there is no one clean of any wrongdoings he troubled the mind, does that mean I am just another one who struggles to find the way…? Realising this he found himself consternated. Wanting to be pushed of the building seemed like just another way of excusing his own inability to act and take responsibility for his own life. If anyone should do it he announced, it can only be myself… He felt ashamed to realise that his decisions, driven by both his mind and ego, were somewhat strange to him. I didn’t see it coming he thought, because I was the one chasing it…


Noticing the shift in the wind, he shuffled back a little, which surprised him. Am I not going to jump then he asked the sunrising sky, would I waste your time that much…? He pondered suddenly feeling the stone-cold block underneath his seat, his hands tired of the constant gripping. Feels like being gripped with fear he noticed, but the fear of what exactly…? His cheeks reddened a little, he seemed more alive than few moments ago. He questioned his choices remembering that there is nothing in this world that cannot be taken or given without a natural counterbalance in one way or another. Nothing is for free but the freedom of choice, which funnily enough comes with a price as well he smirked realising how random the thoughts are sometimes. If we all are just trying to make the most of it he continued, maybe everyone is deemed to fail at some point… Struggling with the thought, he closed his eyes and held his breath for a moment. Wouldn’t it be easier to just be he pondered, like a tree whose only trouble is to grow up and stand tall, no matter the weather… What if that’s exactly what we are supposed to do as well, he brightened up a little, what if we just need to grow up and stand tall no matter the circumstance…? Getting up from the ledge, he stood with his toes close to the side. He looked back down again, his hands folded together, as the breeze strengthened. What has been done was done he exclaimed, now is the time to do differently…


No one has heard the thud, neither the splatter against the pavement. No one cared to notice. Pedestrians walked past the almost fully transparent leftover of a man, who sunk into the stone underneath their feet. His skin was faint, not to say completely bleak. His limbs twisted from the impact, his head nothing more than a shapeless pulp. Above him, thirteen stories up, another man was standing on the ledge, looking down on him. His hair shivered in the morning breeze, as he picked up the phone and dialled 911. The dispositor answered asking the question, which drowned in the gusts of wind surrounding the man. He threw the phone over the ledge and stepped down onto the roof. Leaving the shoes on the side, he walked towards the emergency door, the paved path underneath his feet still little wet from the midnight rain. His face didn’t express anything. His cheeks red as melted iron, he turned around once more to look at the ledge, which could have been his doom. How many times does one commit suicide until the sinner is finally dead…?

Also check out my book on Amazon:

(Un)usual Stories: An uncommon perspective of ordinary life.: Salski, Mr. Wojciech, Druszcz, Miss Katarzyna: 9781838499709: Books

#ledge #creativewriting #poetryprose #innerdialogue

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