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"I think I'm going to fall..."

And this is how I found myself facing an impossibly blue sky with my back resting comfortably (relatively speaking, possibly, or perhaps sarcastically speaking considering the surface, or coating of the surface, on which I lay) on the muddied stones of the steps, arms splayed out to either side of myself, presumably to provide a larger surface area, head having just missed joining my back, with much less comfort, sarcastic or not, on the stones, also facing the as-yet unfallen speaker.

Now, I say an impossibly blue sky because it seemed to be defying all natural law, being the colour of blue it happened to be (exactly the type of blue you'd expect would prompt a child to ask after it's pigmentation, if not an adult, being the shocking blue that it was), reflecting (and defying yet another natural law, while it was out and about it) the blueness of an impossibly blue sea, which was in turn reflecting the incredibly impossible blueness of the sky and so on, like a pair in the street, uncertain as to who was going to break the vicious cycle of stepping back and forth between one another in attempts to get out of the other's way (a considerably more accurate analogous situation if the two people were carrying full length mirrors (even more accurate if they both happen to be wearing all blue)).
'Twas quite a sight, indeed, even if it was being viewed by someone lying on their back in the middle of a rather large series of stone steps down the side of a cliff.

I had been flung, following the opening words, to the ground, apparently having entered some contract, more than likely unwritten, also more than likely telepathic, and some sort of telepathy that my poor addled brain wasn't entirely compatible with, as I didn't seem to pick up on the agreement, wherein I'd be thrown to the ground as a shield against what the ground happened to be covered in if the other party involved felt themselves to be endangered of losing their balance and plummeting to the stone steps upon which we were treading, ineluctably downwards, towards the sea, and somewhat non-surefootedly, as it so happened to be a rather untame set of stone steps, worn smooth over the years, and where it might have been worn smooth but you couldn't tell if it was or not, it was likely covered with an assortment of donkey-related products. Like donkeys.
And tourists.

And while the donkeys weren't necessarily terribly slippery to walk on themselves (the tourists weren't necessarily, either, though the ones that had been previously seated upon a donkey, and were presently residing on the steps after a bout of inexperience with sitting on donkeys on steps, depending on what they were wearing, could be tricky to walk upon), they were somewhat to blame for the state of the stones (meaning both the tourists deposited there after the parenthetical reference to their habit of normally not sitting upon a donkey's back and the stuff responsible for the rather peculiar smell accompanying the hardy traveller on his or her way down the steps and indeed accompanying the bulk of the surrounding hills and streets and shoppes) which might have incited someone to make a special contract about someone else's viability as a part-time carpet, should the need arise (or befall one, as would be the more befitting term).

Quite a shocking blue sky.

disclaimer:
This may be a fable for a fairly limited audience, namely those souls finding themselves on donkey-covered steps (and naturally covered by all the other sorts of things that usually accompany donkeys and their ilk as enumerated above).
There is a good chance this is all entirely too vague and will be indecipherable to the bulk of the reading public without the special decoder.
To order your decoder, we point you to the contact form.
We do not provide donkeys as a general rule of thumb.