"Time is running out."
Just sixty
seconds ago, I'd seen him standing there: a silhouette on the
snowline, a solid, dark image impressed on my mind. When he vanished,
I blinked, sure that the rising sun was playing teasing tricks with
my eyes.
I stared until my eyes watered, until everything had blurred and lost focus. I
had to get over there, and fast. He was vulnerable here, not
experienced enough to know where to tread, or what to do if . . .
Well, if
the unanswerable happened. It would steal his breath and soul from
him. What would be left, then?
Breathing
heavily in the high altitude, I reached the point where I'd last seen
him, and knew with certainty that he wouldn't be coming back. I saw
him falling, his body stretching, human spaghetti.
Someone
needed to alert the authorities about this pesky new wormhole. But it
wouldn't be me. I had strayed too close, and now I was f a l l
i n g t o
o.
[160
words]
Read the stories written by other Friday Fictioneers on Madison's website. NB I have done all I can to 'unset' any 'captcha'-style settings, so apologies if you still face that when posting a comment as a 'Guest'. I have been working with Disqus Tech Support and hope to resolve the problem before next week. Comments I've made previously will now show as being made by 'Guest', as I have deleted a duplicate account.
