Aerial – A Drabble

The wind stretched my skin tight across my face as I… as I what? ‘Rushed through the stratosphere?’ Nah… too elegant… ‘teetered at high velocity and altitude’ sounded more like it.
“’Cause she couldn’t give me a stick when she gave me wings, could she?” A bug hit the back of my throat, and I coughed. That’ll teach me to talk to myself at a time like this.
How the hell was I going to land?
“You can talk to me once you get your misdirected anger under control,” she had said before I started flying. Was that a clue?

This story was written based on this prompt.


About Aheïla

Somewhere in Quebec City, Aheïla works as a Game Design Director by day and writes by night. Known for her blue hair, unyielding dynamism and tasty cooking (quails, anyone?), she’s convinced “prose is the new crack”. She satisfies her addiction daily on The Writeaholic’s Blog and weekly on Games' Bustles View all posts by Aheïla

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