This Much I Know

He knows the rate at which an object falls, and he knows that he wouldn’t go straight down. The cold edge of the guardrail bites into his palms. Standing on it and jumping would send him further out than climbing over it and letting go. There’s a sharp wind curling around him that would push him sideways before he would land. He also knows there’s a formula for all this. It used to come easily as breathing. Then, he could have drawn the numbers together and known exactly where he would come to rest. Now, for all he knows, there may not be anything down there to break his fall.

His watch chimes. These are the only numbers he needs now. It’s 5:50 p.m., and he knows someone will come out to lead him to the dining room. He leans back from the edge. The heavy sliding doors behind him open with a groan. A pair of high heels clicks its way sharply across the balcony to stand beside him.

“Dr. Winchester?”

“Melissa.”

“Dinner will be ready in ten minutes.”

“I know. Thank you.”

She takes his arm, and he counts the steps back to the doors. He grips his cane in his left hand, and realises it wouldn’t matter if there were nothing to break his fall. He should know, after all, that he wouldn’t see it coming.