Literature
When the Skies Fall
He’s falling.
His body is like a dead weight against the wind, and he’s just falling. The ground comes up fast. Too fast, and his breath catches as he squeezes his eyes shut tight.
His chest tightens with fear but impact seems to never come. His arms shake and he is gently laid to the ground as if somebody cradled him like a delicate doll. He shudders against the cold concrete, his body suddenly going cold and trying to roll up in on himself, fingers clutching tightly. A grip takes a hold of his chest, keeping it tightly locked together as another sews it shut that way with the thread of reality.
So lonesome.
Abandoned because o
