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Show I do not remember those last difficult maneuvers which put me here, on top. My body by then was working apart from my mind. But when I found myself crouched on the vast open plain of Malpais I was shocked, as I am always shocked, by the sudden change. Here the wind does not blow. Not so much as a breeze disturbs the volcanic dust which has settled for all time over this lifeless place. The sun expands to fill the sky, and makes the outcroppings of volcanic rock glitter like glass. Beneath the silence I could hear the buzzing of invisible insects, and in the unmoving air there was the slight but unmistakable smell of a smouldering fire. I was on the edge, the perilous lip of Malpais. I leaned out and looked down. In one direction I could see the radio tower, and in the other I could still make out the beach, and even the brown smear of flesh on the orange sand. And at the base of the jagged rocks which rose to meet me I could make out a lone human figure, his pale arms wildly beating the air, waving as though I could be summoned back. If I had jumped I could have landed at his feet. Or, with control, I might have landed directly on top of him, opened both of us upon the rocks and answered all his questions. But I turned away from the edge then, and stepped out onto the plain; pushed aside the heat which rose in visible waves and walked to this place where I now stand. |