by Julie Lavender @JLavenderWrites
“Arch 1000.” I said the words aloud and pulled my shoulders into an arch while freefalling to the ground.
“Look 1000.” I glanced at the buckle-like housing on my left shoulder that held the fake rip cord. My parachute jumpsuit, slightly large for my frame, flapped in the wind.
“Reach 1000.” I pushed against the wind of an 80 mph fall and reached with my right hand to touch the rip cord.
“Pull.” I simulated a pull, though as a first time parachute jumper, I wouldn’t actually deploy the parachute. That took place from a static line, one end attached to the actual rip cord on my chute and the other end attached to a hook inside the plane.
At that precise moment in my countdown, the line went taught, my rip cord pulled away, and the parachute jerked me into a much slower descent. Finally, my heartbeat slowed to a more reasonable rhythm.
How did I get here? I pondered as the chute billowed out above me.
