What can we fall into asks WDC's Writer's Cramp. Oh, any number of things...
| I stand on a narrow strip, a lip. My arms flail, I tense, I inhale. Breath held, pulse pounds, toes clench, peer 'round. Sense of an arc, a hole, a bowl?
Teeter, totter, hitch, glitch, slip, pitch down, down I drop, tumble, fumble. In cool milk I crash, splash and thrash, gasp, shake, grab a cereal flake. Adrift in this pool, I swirl, twirl. Alone, remote, I puzzle, float. Giant puddle, brain a'muddle. Life raft sinks, splutter, heart flutters. Choke, cough, wheeze on my knees I awake, headache, near my bed. Shards of wet glass shattered, scattered. Nightmare dregs crushed under my legs.( 16 lines )