Falling Up

My brother and I had reached the top of a Seussian hill, overlooking a small town. The height was dizzying and a sudden fear made me press against and grab onto the Crayola-green grass. My worry was of falling. Vertigo tingled along my back and limbs. I wasn't afraid that I would tumble down the hill, into the town. I gripped the vivid turf to keep from falling up, into the endless primary sky.

I woke, face-down, gripping the futon. Still tingling. Still afraid of falling up.

Those feelings have lingered...