At the Edge

This is where I live

Wednesday has come around again and I’m happy to present this week’s flash fiction.

“Run.” Lula spoke the word softly, expectantly. I glanced sideways. Her eyes were locked ahead and she gave every appearance of being statue still.

I’d heard her. Hadn’t I? My arms drooping slowly as my gaze drifted. “What?” I asked as a voice hollered over me.

“Keep your hands up!” My gaze jerked back to the guards staggered in a semi-circle in front of us. “No talking.” Half their long barrels trained on me. I jerked my hands back up. An overreaction. We hadn’t set the factory ablaze.

Or, I hadn’t.

Had Lula? Why’d she drug me with her. “Where?”

“To the cliff.”

The cliff. No man’s land. A bottomless, cloud shrouded drop to certain death.

Lula shrugged as if sensing my hesitation. Turning she bolted.

I meeped as the riffles shifted and loud pops echoed. Several drifted back toward me.

Thinking again, running sounds grand.

I sprinted after her, and leapt with her reaching the edge., Squishing my eyes closed, I felt

cool fill my lungs. My legs crashed against something after mere moments, and I rolled crumpling on what felt like a floor.

A hand grabbed my wrist pulling me to a stop.

I breathed. I wasn’t dead?

Opening an eye, I saw sailing above. Opening the other, Lula knelt beside to me with the cliff wall drifting past behind. “Where are we?”

“Where I live.” Tilting her head, she grinned mischievously. “Welcome to platform Blackfall.”
I gaped at her. A dissident’s aerial platform? Falling might’ve been better.

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