As I streak through the air towards the swing tossed my way, the subdued music and dim lights remind me of a thousand such nights. And funerals. There is a standing ovation from the nostalgic spectators, a tribute to the great trapeze artist.
The perfect moment to bid adieu, I feel.
I don’t register the collective gasp while plunging headlong towards the ground.
They will soon find out someone had tampered with the safety net.