Go cliff jumping

“I say I love cliff jumping, but to be honest, everything in me hates taking the leap. As I stand on the edge, every nerve ending tingles, frantically bombarding my brain with the instinctive message that jumping is a bad idea. I hate the moment when I almost jump but don’t, and then, even more, when I launch myself out and have that split second realization that it’s too late to go back. I hate the feeling of falling; legs kicking at the air; arms tensing in an attempt to defy gravity. I hate the way the water hurts if you hit it on a bad angle, like a mammoth slap. In fact, there is only one thing I really like about cliff jumping. It’s when the water catches you and holds you momentarily in its belly, and you rise and break the surface and feel ecstatic triumph.”

“The instructors and the first two or three people jumped off one by one, making it look effortless and absolutely delightful. All of them flew with a ‘Whooooo’ and landed elegantly in the water, feet first. Then it was my turn (I may or may not have let several people go ahead because I kept getting cold feet, but I’ll just leave that for you to decide). Everyone was constantly hooting and cheering for everyone else. It was absolutely adorable to see the pair of best friends jump together. There was even this slightly physically handicapped girl who managed it just fine. Naturally, I felt quite reassured and even managed to build up a good bit of confidence in my presumed ability to jump like them too. But, wait… Has anyone else heard of Mr Murphy? You know, the famous Murphy’s law- When something can go wrong, it will… That one? All the adrenaline whooshing through my body and all the smart-ass comments I had already formed in my head and planned to make later to make others jealous couldn’t stop me from falling ‘splat’ (that really is the most appropriate word I could think of) into the ‘sparkling blue waters of the Adriatic sea’.”