He gulped and took another lumbering step forward. Then another. As he stepped, it seemed the sky swirled in a writhing mass of muted hues. He began to reach one hand up, to touch it, to reach the clouds…but struck an invisible ceiling. As if it was made of glass.
As always.
But that was about to change. How could it not? The roiling in his gut was ample testament to that. Its effects emanated through his back, down his legs. Crawled along his very spine. And throbbed against his lungs and ribs.
He would show them. He would show them all. With this final step, it would be finished.
And as he took that final step, sudden trepidation washed over. Could he do it? A thousand concerns emerged. To call the consequences controversial was an understatement. After all, who else could understand?
Another gulp. He tottered at the very cusp—another inch forward, and return was no longer an option. But how could he back down now?
No. He would do it.
He bent down, loosened his inhibitions, his fears. He let it all go.
Inscrutable release…
And then he flushed.