The Fall

The view was spectacular, the air so crisp and clear following yesterday’s rain that in the freshness after dawn she could see for miles in all directions, city giving way to suburb, suburb to countryside.

Below her, surrounding the needle-like office tower that dominated the city, the highest in the country, were extensive gardens, empty of people at this hour, ready to greet her invasion.

How long would the fall take? How many seconds would pass as she plummeted downwards, the gardens rising rapidly to meet her?

She leaned forward, took a step into space and felt gravity begin its pull.

Faster and faster she fell, closer and closer, but never losing her resolve.

At fifty feet, she leaned back and spread her wings, the deceleration profound. Claws outstretched, her guided-missile body homed in on the hapless mouse she had spotted. It neither saw nor heard her coming.

 ©David George Clarke 2022