It's like standing on the edge of a precipice and staring down ... into the darkness below.
Teetering on the brink, we're feeling giddy ... light-headed.
But is it only the media, the politically-intoxicated and assorted pundits who are on tenterhooks as Winston Peters and his cabal decide the form, shape and hue of the next New Zealand government?
Are we the only ones caught up in this must-watch soap opera cliffhanger?
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I've been thinking of that season finale episode of Shortland Street where there's a wedding, then a bomb goes off, then there's the sound of machine-gun fire, an expanding pool of blood and distant sirens (maybe police, maybe ambulance, probably both) ... and then the credits roll.