At 25,000 feet, I marvelled at the cloudfish, and leant over the rail a little to get a better view.
At 24,500 feet, I realised I’d fallen over the side of the airship.
At 20,250 feet, I was sure the mage would notice.
At 17,000 feet, I couldn’t believe I was so fucking stupid as to lean over the stupid fucking railing.
At 14,750 feet, I began to pray to the Seven Goddesses.
At 6,000 feet, I gave up.
At 1,000 feet, I accepted death.
At 0 feet, I braced for impact.
At -500 feet, I began to freak out.