In the alien world jumping from a building meant falling upward. Caught like a trembling leaf against the curved lip of the roof, only smooth rounded stone kept Jake from tumbling into the sky. Then hands gripped his leg. A fellow abductee pulled him through her window. In the gravity controlled apartment he sank to the floor, clinging to the woman until his watery insides solidified. “You do not yet have the strength to fly,” an abductor whispered in his mind. Holding the woman and thinking “To fly!” he relinquished the power to resist or found reason to stay alive.
This story was written for the Friday Fictioneers, a group dedicated to crafting flash fiction pieces of a 100 words each with the inspiration of a photo prompt. Thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for giving our words a place to go and to Kent Bonham for the photo prompt (which I have turned upside down so don’t think he’s some crazy cock-eyed photographer). You can view more stories from the Friday Fictioneers here.