I cannot describe the moment to you from an on lookers perspective. I cannot give you the particulars of what it looked like for me to plummet down twelve feet from a roof to a concrete floor, perhaps hitting two hard plastic chairs on the way down. I can't even say that there is a slow motion instant replay version of this in my mind. No one was there to film my misstep onto an old aluminum ladder which collapsed with me on it; and down I went humpty-dumpty like with a crash of metal bending and twisting, concave, and after it all, leaning haphazard against the stucco walls of my father in law's house. I'd never anticipated any moment like this. If the flame of a candle could possibly have any self consciousness, and if that flame could consider its own extreme extrinsic contingency, (how its life might be eradicated by an unpredictable rush of an immense wind blitzing against its dancing delicate light against the night sky), that is how my "sucked up" se...