"When I think about life, I always think about death."
His words hung in the air like the foggy mist that left beads of water coating our clothes. Looking behind his shoulder, arms dangling from the rock, he prepared for launch.
As he acquiesced this precision, a muffled voice emerged through his red, puffy jacket:
"Nothing better completes the other. To achieve great heights," taking a deep breath, he jumped, "means to also acknowledge the plunge."