Chapter Twenty-Nine

Zoe

I always knew the last grain of sand in our hourglass would eventually, inevitably succumb to gravity.

But for a while, I forgot.

I always considered myself a lucky person, though never as much as lately.

Lucky ones experience periods in which life feels like the comfort of a fluffy cloud—barefoot toes dancing to the whispers of the wind in the soft blue sky in the company of the sun, the stars and the constellations.

Most only get brief glimpses of happiness; free samples only meant to show what will be missing in its absence.

My glimpses stretched and stretched into weeks of bliss. The simple stretch of an arm and my hand is sunlight and stardust.

I'm on top of the entire fucking world.

Gravity, however, is a one-way road, its direction down, down, down.

Unfortunately, it doesn't involve cozy rides and soft landings or even a wooden ladder of ten thousand excruciating steps. It's all free fall, nothing but hard ground at the end—harsh reality.

All it takes is one phone call.