I jump, saying goodbye. Falling through black smoke. Past a gaping wound of fire.
Somewhere, there’s a crack louder than thunder. Rolling plumes of masonry dust envelope like shrouds.
I’m still falling. Impossibly. With so many others.
Falling.
No.
Flying.
Copyright © 2019 by Jason H. Abbott, All Rights Reserved.
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This is extremely evocative! It’s extremely clear even without the title.
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Thank you. So many years later, and those moments still haunt me.
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