Foreign Existence

The rippling water below glimmered in the soft light of the moon, presenting to her a distorted reflection of the scene. She wondered and wondered and wondered: Is this what home is? Is this heaven? Is this truth or trickery?

She never had much patience. One more tear spilling down a sunken cheek. One more look above. One last look below. A leap followed by a delicate splash, the sound swallowed by the stillness of the night. The beginning of a journey back to the start.