Greg pushed nothing but air.

The momentum was his enemy. He had committed too fully to the shove. With no resistance to meet him, his upper body kept going, carrying his legs with it. His eyes went wide, a look of comical, terrifying realization.

He hit the railing not with his hands, but with his thighs. His center of gravity tipped past the point of no return. He flailed, his arms windmilling desperately in the cool night air, grasping for a hold that wasn’t there.

“No!” he screamed.

And then he was gone.

SPLASH.