It's like… the world gives you just enough rope to hang yourself, but sometimes, just sometimes, it's long enough to make a swing. That little gasp of freedom, the moment the ground leaves your feet and the air rushes past, that's almost worth the fall. i hate that it's almost, though. almost is such a cruel word, it's the taste of metal in your mouth, that phantom limb ache...it's Priya saying, 'I almost called' but the 'almost' is all i hear, all i remember. Beans just kneaded my stomach, a tiny engine of purrs, and for a second it was pure okay. pure, simple, unbroken. then the phone buzzed, and it broke.