Memoir

The edge of the cliff crumbles under my bare foot and gravity sucks at the debris, water reaching up and swallowing it ravenously.
The white waves slap at the rock below me in a low lion's roar--hungry for more.
Hard black crag shoots up in jagged forms, their soft, organic shapes sharpened by the ferocious onslaught of the sea.
Timid footsteps guide me from a warm, safe campfire. I look back at the dancing, crackling firelight.
It sings for me to stay--to come home, but the fire is just one voice--the sea chants a chorus--swaying to the harmony it produces.
I gaze back down to the monstrous breathing mass of water as it beckons to me--urging my drop.
Wet arms push up against the cliff and explode into millions of salty tear drops that sprinkle my face. Delightful feathers of excitement tingle down my spine and dissolve at the small of my back.
The sea sends up thousands more of these cold, undulating pearls of water before I finally succumb to its call, leaping from the cliff into the ocean's thirsting embrace.