ATOP NELSON’S COLUMN

Windy, cold and grey is the sky. The clouds amass on the horizon,

laden with rain, while a bitter wind drives them towards me.

I have never been so scared here above the earth; I don’t know how I got here,

I only want to get down.

Smoke blackened stone is cold and so alien to my touch, while the ground is far below.

I see people staring a...

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