I was feeling kind of dizzy. I had a bad sense of where I was going. I stepped out onto my patio and fell over the ledge. I live on the 65th floor, so I had a little time to asses. I thought, “Okay, this is a kind of bad move on my part, but I am sort of out of it, so I’m going to let myself go on that. Anyways, I haven’t much time, so, hmmmmm, what to do?”

I landed in the pool. I think because I landed laying flat rather than a dive, I didn’t hit the bottom of the pool. Still, it hurt. The great thing is it got me out of my spacey state. I swam to the side of the pool and sat on the edge. I squeezed all my body parts to make sure I wasn’t damaged. Tender, yes, but not broken.

I took the elevator to the 65th floor. I rang the doorbell. My dog, Chancellor, answered.

He said, “What the hell happened to you?”

I said, “I fell over the ledge.”

Chancellor knows me well, so he didn’t question my answer. He brought me to my room, got me out of my wet clothes, and gave me a towel to dry off. I put on some sweat pants and a cotton jacket.

I laid down on my bed and thought about a quote from Paul of Taranto, an alchemist from the 13th century. He said, “The quantity of three resides in the quantity of four.” I’m thankful a bigger world supports me.

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