There is always a time, often a very short instant, when one hesitates. The human brain is remarkably apt at analysing those instants, and the circumstances that made them lethal.
A sheer cliff, the second preceding a jump in the void, the distinctive metallic snap of a rifle being armed: it maybe a sound, a sudden change in the air, even a smile in the face of an assassin.
That feeling in the stomach, a quick rollback of ancient events, of cherished moments: will it all finish here?
It maybe the youthful face of a long-lost lover, or a scene of our childhood. It maybe a colour, the smell of bread, an autumn afternoon in a meadow…
But it is now, the fall, the sheer drop, so we have to decide: now, or never.
Image: The secret player, René Magritte, via el-guia-del-laberinto