Sliding down a slippery trail.
A trail I'd been down a hundred times before.
My hands outstretched, like I was heading for home plate.
There are twists and turns, s-curves and figure eights.
It's dark, so it must be nighttime.
Or perhaps I'm underground, deep within an endless chamber filled with trails to all destinations.
Sliding along, I begin to lose confidence, and the curves become a little too tight.
My legs are flailing off the trail behind me.
I'm no longer in control and picking up speed.
Now I'm sliding from side to side with no way to right myself.
I spin to get myself in the correct position but it's too late.
I fly off the edge of the trail into the black that surrounds me.
I'm gone baby, gone.
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