Malory was falling, sliding down a dark tunnel as the only light receded far above. It dumped her into a mass of groping hands, each pair attached to one of a thousand twisted versions of herself. Tearing and pulling her in every direction as she fought to crawl back into the chute.
There, a new light above, a new tunnel, a way out, but another abomination blocked her way. She kicked and clawed, pulling the obscene clone out of the way and shoving her way up the tunnel. From below her own voice called out.
"Come back!" "Don't go!" "You have to stay!" "Where are you going?"
Finally, the light above seemed within reach. One
A year ago I was living in Reno, if you can really call it living. Laid off, nearly broke, car dead; it was time to head home, back to the great Salt Lake. I stuffed a wad of clothes and as much water as I could carry into an old pack, drew the last of my cash from savings, and started walking. That's right, hitchhiking across Nevada in the summer, not my proudest moment.
It was easy going until I hit the bulk of US Highway 50. I've learned since that US 50 is the "Loneliest Road in America." Lucky me. Fortunately I managed to keep walking right up until sundown, when I stumbled off the road a few yards and curled up under my rando
First Flight (Alternate Version) by jkruse, literature
Literature
First Flight (Alternate Version)
In an empty apartment, illuminated by a single, bare light bulb, a young girl sits chewing her hair. A soft, elegant snow has been falling most of the day. Not enough to truly disrupt routine, but the city still sparkles with golds and blues as evening comes. She stares out the window, trying to follow individual flakes as they float past. Nearby a young man is rolling up two sleeping bags and stuffing them into a large case with the last of their clothes.
"Daddy, is it scary?"
The man looks up. "What's that, hon?"
"Is flying scary?"
He smiles and pauses his packing. He wants to comfort her, but is unsure how. Of course flyin
Between working at BioSyn and helping Maggie plan the wedding I haven't gotten to see dad much lately. However, I did make it home for Father's Day this year. As always he was glad to see me and annoyed that he had to accommodate company, not that he did much beyond fixing the bed in the guest room.
At some point among reminiscing about my childhood and debating over current sports, I threw in a question from left field. I don't know for sure why, maybe anticipation of my own wedding brought it to the front of my mind, but I asked dad how he met mom. There was an almost imperceptible pause, followed by bellowing laughter. When it f
They weren't the ruins they were supposed to be. The map said he was in the right place, but rather than the elegant architecture of the Falmer he saw only simple walls of rock and rotting wood. Nevertheless, this would have to do for the night's camp, the sun was dipping below the horizon.
A screeching roar snapped his attention from the map to the skies. He recognized the sound immediately. The bellowing of a dragon. He should have known, should have sensed when he entered its territory. The miles of hiking and biting wind had drained him, leaving his mind dim. No matter, there was nothing he could do to avoid it now
Early evening in London, a soft, elegant snow has been falling most of the day. Not enough to truly disrupt the city's routine, but the lights coming on as the sun drops illuminate the frozen powder with sparkling blues and oranges. In one small, empty apartment a man is packing a small bag. A young girl watches the snow as she twirls a strand of curly black hair. Each room is left bare, the last of its clutter already shipped away. It is lit by a single bulb and the soft glow from outdoors. Only the father and his daughter remain with a single piece of luggage each. The child speaks softly.
"Daddy, is it scary?"
The man looks up, "What's
Dean sits under his desk lamp, surrounded by the remaining papers of a massacred file folder. He holds his head in his hands as he strains to recall where this month's financial report was left. After a deep sigh he shoots to his feet, knocking over the computer chair. The young economist snatches his keys and jacket and heads for the apartment door. A loud "dammit!" echoes back to the room as he marches down the hall.
The night is an inky black; Dean's headlights barely cut the darkness between streetlamps. He slows to a crawl to see ahead while he calls security on his cell. The office is locked up by this hour, the guard will have to let
Malory was falling, sliding down a dark tunnel as the only light receded far above. It dumped her into a mass of groping hands, each pair attached to one of a thousand twisted versions of herself. Tearing and pulling her in every direction as she fought to crawl back into the chute.
There, a new light above, a new tunnel, a way out, but another abomination blocked her way. She kicked and clawed, pulling the obscene clone out of the way and shoving her way up the tunnel. From below her own voice called out.
"Come back!" "Don't go!" "You have to stay!" "Where are you going?"
Finally, the light above seemed within reach. One
A year ago I was living in Reno, if you can really call it living. Laid off, nearly broke, car dead; it was time to head home, back to the great Salt Lake. I stuffed a wad of clothes and as much water as I could carry into an old pack, drew the last of my cash from savings, and started walking. That's right, hitchhiking across Nevada in the summer, not my proudest moment.
It was easy going until I hit the bulk of US Highway 50. I've learned since that US 50 is the "Loneliest Road in America." Lucky me. Fortunately I managed to keep walking right up until sundown, when I stumbled off the road a few yards and curled up under my rando
First Flight (Alternate Version) by jkruse, literature
Literature
First Flight (Alternate Version)
In an empty apartment, illuminated by a single, bare light bulb, a young girl sits chewing her hair. A soft, elegant snow has been falling most of the day. Not enough to truly disrupt routine, but the city still sparkles with golds and blues as evening comes. She stares out the window, trying to follow individual flakes as they float past. Nearby a young man is rolling up two sleeping bags and stuffing them into a large case with the last of their clothes.
"Daddy, is it scary?"
The man looks up. "What's that, hon?"
"Is flying scary?"
He smiles and pauses his packing. He wants to comfort her, but is unsure how. Of course flyin
Between working at BioSyn and helping Maggie plan the wedding I haven't gotten to see dad much lately. However, I did make it home for Father's Day this year. As always he was glad to see me and annoyed that he had to accommodate company, not that he did much beyond fixing the bed in the guest room.
At some point among reminiscing about my childhood and debating over current sports, I threw in a question from left field. I don't know for sure why, maybe anticipation of my own wedding brought it to the front of my mind, but I asked dad how he met mom. There was an almost imperceptible pause, followed by bellowing laughter. When it f
They weren't the ruins they were supposed to be. The map said he was in the right place, but rather than the elegant architecture of the Falmer he saw only simple walls of rock and rotting wood. Nevertheless, this would have to do for the night's camp, the sun was dipping below the horizon.
A screeching roar snapped his attention from the map to the skies. He recognized the sound immediately. The bellowing of a dragon. He should have known, should have sensed when he entered its territory. The miles of hiking and biting wind had drained him, leaving his mind dim. No matter, there was nothing he could do to avoid it now
Early evening in London, a soft, elegant snow has been falling most of the day. Not enough to truly disrupt the city's routine, but the lights coming on as the sun drops illuminate the frozen powder with sparkling blues and oranges. In one small, empty apartment a man is packing a small bag. A young girl watches the snow as she twirls a strand of curly black hair. Each room is left bare, the last of its clutter already shipped away. It is lit by a single bulb and the soft glow from outdoors. Only the father and his daughter remain with a single piece of luggage each. The child speaks softly.
"Daddy, is it scary?"
The man looks up, "What's
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