Waiting

She sits at the edge of the world, looking into the black abyss. Her legs dangle off the cliff, as if to bridge the void and the world together. She sits there looking down, away from the grey skies and garish maroon rocks of the cliff path.

I walk up to her and stand as she sits. Instead of looking into the abyss I look into the distance, and wonder how the world could just come to such an abrupt end, even the sky faded into the darkness, engulfed by the void. It made the world feel like an unfinished book, as if someone had given up, saying ‘that’s enough’. God is such a slouch, why worship him?

Most people who approach the edge of the world, gaze at the abyss as if to provide an insight into how insignificant they are. Others just take pictures and share them online, as a way to garner attention from their friends and followers for the day. Some even jump into the abyss, letting it devour them whole. No one knows what happens if you drop into the abyss, because no one has returned. Maybe you fall forever? Maybe you end up somewhere else? Maybe there is a ladder at the bottom which can lead you back out as if nothing had ever happened? Or perhaps you simply become one with the darkness?

The closest anyone got to finding out was when a climber made their way down the cliff with a rope. He rose from the abyss one time, gave a thumbs up, then cut the rope with a knife. Some say the climber found something better than what was above the abyss, others say the climber wasn’t even a climber.

I ask her how long she’s been sitting, watching the edge of the world. She takes a moment to respond, as if lost in deep thought. ‘A few years’ she says, and I’m slightly bewildered. How does she eat? Where does she sleep? I look around and see nothing.

I then ask her why she has been sitting for so long. She replies, saying she is ‘waiting’. Waiting for what? ‘You’ll see.’ She replies. And so, I sit next to her and we both watch the abyss at the edge of the world, at the end of the world.

I wait for a few hours then grow tired so set off back. I’d only come to witness the end for myself, and maybe she wasn’t really waiting for anything at all, or had even been sat there for a number of years. I set off home, leaving her to sit and wait for whatever it was she was waiting for.

I return a year later out of curiosity. But she was no longer sitting at the edge of the world. I sit where she had sat and stare down into the abyss. Then I realise, just what it was she was waiting for.

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