[so bad after all]

[I let go of the scaffolding and stepped forward. Behind me, Dan was silent. Gareth let out a mirthless "Ha." My eyes were on the far end of the plank, where it crossed the roofline again: safety. I took another step, expecting the plank to bow, but it didn't. It didn't even move.

This isn't going to be so bad after all, I thought.

I took another step, glancing down to make sure my feet were in the middle of the plank. I blinked and kept going, my hands lifted from my sides for balance. I took another step, then another.

The breeze chilled my face again. My eyes began to water. I looked down, trying to clear my vision, but everything was a blur. My sneakers, the plank, and the grass far below all merged; they slopped and surged sickeningly.

Then: dizziness, and the sense that my feet were no longer on the plank. I straightened out right before I hit the ground.

"Shit! Shit!" I could hear Dan squeaking from far away. When I opened my eyes, he was racing back along the roof edge toward the ladder we'd climbed from the balcony. He was petrified: I could see it in the way he moved, his knees bent, head down, those clammy hands wrapped tight around the scaffolding.

Gareth stood where I'd left him. He was leaning on the scaffolding, looking down on me from that great height. I couldn't see his face, though: the clouds reflected the light behind him, and he was black. A wraith, a lanky silhouette, my friend now nothing more than a dark figure against the sky.]