There is a moment, every time I fall, when I've passed the balancing point, and feel gravity getting to me. Even though the rush to the floor hasn't quite begun, I know, at this point, that there's nothing I can do to stop it, and can only try to make the way down as graceful as possible.
I fall a lot, especially since I moved out here and, for the first time in my life, there's enough snow to pack into a slippery death trap on the sidewalks. Every time I slip, and have that moment of resignation, I think it would make a great life metaphor. But I don't have any actual life experience to match the metaphor, so I stash it away with my other half-metaphors, all waiting for me to live the life part.
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