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Rated: ASR · Short Story · Emotional · #2015892
A flash fiction piece for my advanced fiction writing class. About the urge to jump.
Call of the Void


I sling my legs over the edge of the concrete wall and take a long look down. Twenty-seven floors is high. Very high.

My cell rings. It's my boss. I don't answer it. I'm on break.

What a view. The landscape stretches for miles. An endless sea of office buildings and parking lots.  Down below, a river of cars are backed up so far they barely move. Nevertheless, it's the best spot in the building. Looking out the window, I feel so small. Looking down from a roof, so big.

There really should be some sort of fence up here. One wrong move and I'd be over the edge, headed toward certain death in the form of fast and solid ground. It's such a head trip, knowing how quickly and easily an accident could happen, how everything would just, stop.

And who's to say it would be an accident? I stand up and check over the side once more. Now that is power. I could choose to make it happen. It would be so simple, one step in the right, the wrong, direction.

Am I the only person who thinks about this? I hover my right foot over the empty air. I close my eyes and raise to my tiptoes on the other foot. Then I cheat, and peek through one eye.

Somewhere in the distance, I see green. A small park, an oasis, is hidden out there. Life I never knew existed. I set my foot back down.


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