Decisions, Decisions...

I stand on a precipice. I am at the point, in a good book, where part of me is enjoying the view from where I stand now. The strong winds of the story pull me in different directions and the tall sea grasses whisper secrets, promising to reveal more than I could imagine. Even the water below seems hushed in reverent silence, telling me to slow down, to hesitate, and be patient.

The other part of me longs to run and dive off the edge. I want to feel the exhilarating fear of the fall, to hold my breath and plunge myself into the deep water of the resolution I know will come. I want to feel the whole story wash over me in sweet relief and delight in finally knowing all the secrets and having my anticipation satisfied.

I must admit, I revel in the indecision. For once one path is chosen, there can be no turning back. I must choose to put away the story for awhile and ponder the possibilities, allowing the characters to play out plausible resolutions in my mind, or...I must commit to the dive and finish the story, leaving no more room for possibilities, and find out the final fate of my characters.

Is it any wonder why I find reading so much more interesting than television and movies?