Every evening she walked right to the edge, then turned back to her comfortable home.
The edge called to her, tempted her, taunted her.
The edge whispered things to her, things that in the sunlight were clearly lies, but at night sounded different.
And yet, every evening she walked back to the edge.
Perhaps she was testing her resolve?
Perhaps she couldn’t see that the whispers were seeking to betray her?
Whatever she was thinking, we may never know.
Last night, the call was too much for her resolve, too much for her to deny.
She walked right up to the edge, under the rail, and beyond.
Beyond the yellow line.
Beyond the other side.
And disappeared into the darkness, never to be seen again.
Tonight, her daughter walked to the edge for the first time.