“I knew I could never do what I hoped for as a little girl. It was not what He intended me to do. He did not intend this for me either. Neither did I. Alas, this is what I am. I am a quivering mess, a tangle of nerves and emotions for which there are no words. The building upon which I stand is so very tall and the street below is very far away. People are beginning to turn and look now. I think my red scarf must have caught their eye. The concrete will be hard, but I will not know it. I will only know the short fall to my Eternal Salvation, to Him. I suppose you think I mean some sort of deity. I do not. He is not a god, and it is five years since He last was called a man. He is lost in some lonely void between this world and the next. I hear Him call, I feel His phantom touch; and so it is there I must go.”
