Leaping from the rooftop, the chase behind me, time stops as I ascend
the arc.  The rising slows, the floorless world below an intricate
projection that threatens to become fatally real, and I can do no more
than to calculate and guess whether my trajectory will bear me to the
opposite ledge or if my path will drop off with increasing rapidity
resulting in collision and expiration of this mortal coil.  At the
peak of the jump, I realize there is a third possibility: that I would
have enough flight to sail into the side of the opposing building,
painfully ricocheting in prelude to my demise.  It's funny what you think of
between moments. Falling now ...