Wednesday has come around again, and I’m happy to present this week’s flash fiction.
Dangling from the rope, Robert pondered how he’d gotten into this predicament. He didn’t like heights. He didn’t even enjoy the four stairs to his rowhouse stoop. Yet, he there he was, clinging to a rope off from the tower.
“Hold on!” ShaLinda called. Robert heard a grunt, a clash, and a yelp of sudden pain above.
He snorted. Hold on? Did she think he would let go and plummet to his death? The rope shifted within his vice-like grip, burning his skin.
Oh, that’s what she meant.
The calm thought sat cacophonous next to his jangled nerves rattling Robert’s system. A body convinced he would die any second. Only if I give in to my nerves.
His attention began drifting toward the ground again. No, no, that won’t do, he lectured himself.
Yanking his gaze up, he watched the rope slid another millimeter beneath his hands. That will not do either.
Shifting his grip, he released one hand, grabbing the rope’s loose end, wrapped his hand around it, and held on. He managed not to puke when he slipped further while doing that.
Another scream sounded above, growing closer. A man passed next to him, meeting his gaze forever and an instant before dropping out of sight.
The rope jerked in Robert’s grip, and he squeezed his eyes closed, clenching tightly. This is it. I’m going to die. They’d cut the rope and he’d join the man below.
Instead, the rope jerked upward, haltingly, dragging Robert with it.
“You could help,” ShaLinda called.
Robert sucked in a breath, braced his feet against the building, and began climbing. Or rather stumbling up. Arms and legs trembling, he tumbled over the railing, onto the platform, and let out a racking sob.
“It wasn’t that bad,” ShaLinda said.
Robert glared at the woman. Her golden hair streaming in magnificent chaos. A chaos her presence echoed in his life.
“Not that bad?” Robert stammered, trying to regain his feet. “What would you call dangling off a building and nearly falling to your death?”
“A Wednesday,” ShaLinda shrugged. “Shall we get on with this?” Robert stared after her as she flounced across the platform to the staircase heading up. She was going to be the death of him.
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Be sure to check out the other Wednesday Words authors’ take on the prompt.
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