Here is the beginning of a peice of work which I have just begun. It explores the relationship between a writer and the character which she creates. 

Falling As I begin to fall I feel nothing but speckles of rain blasting against my cheeks, and a sense of freedom that surges vividly through my body – a type of freedom which both frightens and excites at the same time. This is it; I have waited months for this exact moment. It will be over soon, and then I will never have to feel trapped again. This is taking so much longer than I'd expected. I had thought it just one little jump. One jump and it would all be over- but I'm still dropping. Still hurtling closer and closer to the rocky ground below. Why will this not end! This jump seems to just go on and on. It's almost as bad as the journey here, and that had been the worst truck journey ever. As I reminisce I shiver to think of what could of happened – we could have seriously crashed, and that would have ruined everything. I wouldn't even be doing this at all. I'm so glad that there Adriano was a competent driver. Of Argentinian descent he had started the day like any other day – as one of the unseen. One...