Fear plays me for a fool. It knocks me down, paralyzes me, spits in my face and then laughs at my misery. So while I scoot across a translucent wire, thousands of feet above snow-topped chimneys and high rises below, fear takes its bite. An arctic wind whips my matted hair into my eyes and distracts me from my job--- to repair the downed circuits of the sky rail. I shiver. Straddling the wire, I’m wrapped in Dad’s faded blue jacket. His blood-red beanie protects my ears. His clothes help me remember, though how could I forget. I smell the cool, pure, refreshing scent of snow; like white rain, it will fall shortly. The wind, sharp and cruel, cuts through my clothes to my pale skin. I glance at my thumb and pinky, now violet blue, protruding through holes in my glove. Damn, I should have sewed the holes before coming up here. Peering down, I see little brown specks of trees, I flinch, trembling. Concentrate, Zara. Focus. One unexpected jerk of a muscle, and I will plummet to my death.
A chirp from my hover board, Batman, floating beside me, diverts my attention from the sheer drop below. Even now, my dad watches over me. Batman was his board. Just breathe. I sit up straight; my butt rocks the wire as I clench it with my wobbly right hand. If my brother Seth or Tia Marleena could see me, they’d pass out. I look like I’m floating in mid-air.