THE TETHER

Knowing when to let go is everything

She sighted her goggles, zipped her leather jacket, laced her boots.
Sat on the bench. Waited.

The train paused just long enough for her to tie the rope.
he was strapped in, ready.

Through cities and mountains it lurched, iron wheels biting the rails.
Rain slicked her face, sunlight burned through the clouds.
Wind in her hair, fear in her chest—
the river below rushing, the track trembling.
She knew no greater joy than that moment.

Until she did.

At one stop she watched a fellow rider unbuckle, step down.
Timid, deliberate.
He glanced back, wiry smile at the corner of his mouth.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

He only pointed. Then walked on.

The train roared. She almost missed it.

Almost.

She cut the tether.