A Writer's Collection

He and She

He walks on thin ice. She climbs over a wall.

He holds on to the lamp. She clutches on to the harness.

Expecting the crack. Expecting the fall.

Enveloped in the fog. Blown by the gust.

He looks at the sky. She looks over the city.

The land dried. The clouds dropped.

The footsteps slowly timed, their pants echoed.

The stars twinkle. The sun rises.

Warmth was what he needed. Chilly was what she felt.

The jump scares him. The climb taunted her.

What would be seen down there? What would be seen up there?

To the hole where he would go. To the edge she would be.

With that one little thought as the time ticked.

It would be a waste to go back now that they were there.

He took a deep breath. She took a deep breath. 

A foot hangs in the air. A hand reaches up in the air.

Can I do it? Can I do it?

At least I tried. I got to try now.

No going back. Just a little more.

Now. Got it. 

He plunged down the icy hole. She holstered up the rocky edge.

All senses lost. All what was known became a blur.

What happened?

.

.

.

The hour has passed. But their shadows were seen.

A blinding light had their vision blocked. 

A second later, an adjustment was made.

There they stood across each other. Finally breathed.

The fence of their worlds were breached. The possibility done.

A slow blink. A widening smile. 

Finally. "I can see you."

Now in one world. He and She.