Five Words That Prevented Her Death — But Didn’t Save Her Life
Walking away from her at that moment, I felt tremendous guilt.
The Wave
I’d never seen someone fall — not in real life. But I imagined it then, a muted vision, black falling over white, to break like a wave on the beach.
Her small face turned to me 100 metres along the cliff top we were on the edge of, white and sheer above the sea.
Like the grass she clung to on the steep bank over the drop, I clung to the belief she hadn’t come to the edge for any other reason.
I waved at her to show my position was better, clinging to the idea she had crossed the safety rope — like I had — to take pictures of the red and white lighthouse stood vigil in the sea below.
Please be here to take pictures and nothing else. I waved at her so she knew I’d seen her, to let her know she wasn’t alone and in good company. After 4 months of hiking alone, I knew the impact of a small friendly gesture.
And she waved back. Any relief was shaken off by the small tremor of fear in her movement. A short, quick wave.
She moved up the bank a little then, and I prayed she would come towards me, acknowledging my position was better and she had picked a…
