The wind whipped around him, sharp with salt. He sat at the edge, feeling like he'd reached the end of the world. Just rock and endless ocean below. He often came to places like this— quiet spots where sky met sea, and the world's noise faded.

He wasn't looking for answers, not really. Life had tangled into a mess of choices and regrets. But here, there was clarity. The cliff's edge, the cold wind, the crashing waves — it was all raw and real. Nature didn't pretend; it simply was.

The horizon blurred where sky touched sea. His worries shrank against its vastness.

He didn't need answers.

Just this moment.

On the edge.

Alive.

Enough.