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Summary
“Halfway through the third fake fall, my ankle folded and… I fell. I didn’t even have time to think or grab anything before everything was just upside down.”
Ivan sat silent; mouth slightly agape from what he was trying to process. He leaned in closer, supporting himself on his knees to ask, “You fell?”
“I fell. All the way down.” Alfred nodded, taking a sip from his beer.
“You fell… from the Grand Canyon?”
Alfred nodded again, only slower. “Yep."
