Day 8: flying
Jul. 1st, 2008 10:37 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kitewithfishI feel like this is very rough, but I am sleepy, so I will let it go for now.
Day 8
I will fly. There is nothing to stop me. I will fly.
“James, get down from the roof! Please, listen to me. I know you think that things are bad, but they’ll get better. You don’t have to do this!” A voice from underneath him was screaming and seemed close to tears. James felt a brief pang of sympathy in the faint way he had for all crawling things, but paid it no more attention than the birdsong or the rising alarms.
I will fly. There is nothing to stop me. I will fly.
He leaned closer to the edge of the roof. It was a lovely day, and the winds were right for take-off. He knew this instinctively, the same way he knew that, in leaping off the side of this building, he would not fall. It wasn’t even a question of faith. Some things go deeper.
I will fly. There is nothing to stop me. I will fly.
He took off his shoes, and set them carefully by the edge. He stepped over the low barrier with the slight caution that bare feet bring in the modern world, and then settled himself. The wailing beneath him took on a fevered pitch. He would try to explain to them later about this, but there was only so much that he could do for the moment. He had places to be.
I will fly. There is nothing to stop me. I will fly.
He stepped off the ledge and flew.
***
“What do you mean, he flew?” The detective was starting to get annoyed. There is only so much insanity that a single person can take in one day, and most of it seemed to concentrate into the collection of morbid gawkers that the detective would then have to question and file reports on.
“He stepped off the roof, and he didn’t fall. He flew.” The woman on the other side of the desk was taller than the detective, something the detective noted with dissatisfaction. Still the detective could loom over the suspect with ease while seated, and she did so now while glaring to make sure that the interrogee was perfectly away of what would happen if she continued this chicanery.
“I swear to god, he just walked off the roof and didn’t fall. He didn’t seem to even start flying- he just looked like he was standing in the clouds getting farther and farther off. He was gone.”
“Uh huh. And how do you know this James?”
“He was a friend of mine, sort of. He is incredibly unpushy: I didn’t notice him in this larger section of the office, and I just thought that maybe he was depressed or something, but when we went on a date, he looked incredibly uncomfortable. He said that he was already promised to some one, and that I should leave him alone. Then, next thing I know, he’s come back from stupid meeting with a con and then he started to pack for a trip to god knows where, and then he jumps off the roof the next day.”
Day 8
I will fly. There is nothing to stop me. I will fly.
“James, get down from the roof! Please, listen to me. I know you think that things are bad, but they’ll get better. You don’t have to do this!” A voice from underneath him was screaming and seemed close to tears. James felt a brief pang of sympathy in the faint way he had for all crawling things, but paid it no more attention than the birdsong or the rising alarms.
I will fly. There is nothing to stop me. I will fly.
He leaned closer to the edge of the roof. It was a lovely day, and the winds were right for take-off. He knew this instinctively, the same way he knew that, in leaping off the side of this building, he would not fall. It wasn’t even a question of faith. Some things go deeper.
I will fly. There is nothing to stop me. I will fly.
He took off his shoes, and set them carefully by the edge. He stepped over the low barrier with the slight caution that bare feet bring in the modern world, and then settled himself. The wailing beneath him took on a fevered pitch. He would try to explain to them later about this, but there was only so much that he could do for the moment. He had places to be.
I will fly. There is nothing to stop me. I will fly.
He stepped off the ledge and flew.
***
“What do you mean, he flew?” The detective was starting to get annoyed. There is only so much insanity that a single person can take in one day, and most of it seemed to concentrate into the collection of morbid gawkers that the detective would then have to question and file reports on.
“He stepped off the roof, and he didn’t fall. He flew.” The woman on the other side of the desk was taller than the detective, something the detective noted with dissatisfaction. Still the detective could loom over the suspect with ease while seated, and she did so now while glaring to make sure that the interrogee was perfectly away of what would happen if she continued this chicanery.
“I swear to god, he just walked off the roof and didn’t fall. He didn’t seem to even start flying- he just looked like he was standing in the clouds getting farther and farther off. He was gone.”
“Uh huh. And how do you know this James?”
“He was a friend of mine, sort of. He is incredibly unpushy: I didn’t notice him in this larger section of the office, and I just thought that maybe he was depressed or something, but when we went on a date, he looked incredibly uncomfortable. He said that he was already promised to some one, and that I should leave him alone. Then, next thing I know, he’s come back from stupid meeting with a con and then he started to pack for a trip to god knows where, and then he jumps off the roof the next day.”
