I'm Still Tumbling Through the Air, 1,500 Feet Over a Train Trestle in Rockford, Illinois, in March of 1974

I'm still tumbling through the air, 1,500 feet over a train trestle in Rockford, Illinois, in March of 1974.

I'm sort of in suspension like I'm not descending but the wind is beating against my face. Against my head and balls and chest. So hard for air. I'm at about 1,500 hundred feet and below me is the train trestle and the track winding away between fields ochre, yellow and brown and the road a ribbon of gray and there, another road. The river below the trestle. I'm still tumbling through the air in 1974.

I'm still in a villa looking out upon the sea. I believe the villa may be in Italy. A cliff climbs up out of the surf at dusk. It climbs a hundred feet or so to a terrace where headlights occasionally pass around a corner in a road in front of darkened homes and a hill that rises higher yet again, and higher still with buildings fading into formlessness into the darkened clouds.