Suddenly there seems to be a mass of swirling, dancing, morphing colours in the sky again, beckoning and tempting me. "Fall," they whisper, but I'm too afraid to obey, but I hear, again and again, the call, a whisper, then a shout, a breath, then a clamour. They want to drag me into their light, into their pulsating heart and drape me with colours beyond the imagination. They want to place me in the sky, where everyone can see me, but I'm too afraid. I don't want to be seen, to be known, not forever, not the way they want to immortalise me. I'm afraid of climbing all the way to the top and being vulnerable, only for you to shoot me down when you shatter my fantasy. It's a long, long fall from the top. I'm just not ready to risk glory for my life. I'm not ready to be seduced.