What Was He Thinking?
A Photo Story
He stood so still out on that cliff. People strolled by on the path–on the right track–paying no attention to this solitary figure on the wrong side of the rusted metal railing that was hardly a barrier anymore. Were they wondering, too? Were they, too, trying to calculate a motive or piece together the puzzle of this man’s thinking? No one said a word to him, including me. I walked on, concern swirling in my head though not a strong enough current to keep me from floating away on my own path–the right path.
On my way back, the man was no longer on the cliff. I wondered if he was in his car driving off somewhere or–and I shivered slightly–far below. Either way, I’ll never know what brought this man out so close to the edge on this ordinary Thursday morning. Sometimes we just can’t know.
***
