Using a light support pole to his immediate left, Alistair hoisted himself up into a standing position on the rail. The breeze lulled temporarily, allowing him to gain a relatively secure balance, without any swaying or rocking. His left hand remained with the pole, at close to full arm s length from his body, the contact more a caress than a hold. The tactile sensation of the moist palm against the cold, unyielding steel provided Alistair with physical evidence that reality was yet to give way to oblivion. This is it.
Freedom is at the end of one tiny step.
Alistair briefly wondered at the thoughts of past suiciders and whether, with blade poised or the gun in the mouth or the noose around the neck, their supreme emotional state was anything like his now. He assumed there were commonalities relief, release, peace perhaps even true joy. He doubted, though, that many before had felt the overwhelming intoxication of, what was for him, the ultimate state of mind. Empowerment with focus. The power of power itself.