Scrittura Magazine
FALLING Annie Maclean She told me that she had slid, slipped and fallen. Her ankle kinked upon the gravel. A bone clicked. An unbalancing to throw her body out of kilter. She felt her fall as though through treacle, as if she were watching herself from afar. She traced the line which led to her fall. It veered on sideways in slow motion, a scary corkscrew to the ground. She felt she was helpless. There was nothing to do. No sound broke through her concentration. A heavy feather, floating madly, to hit the hardness beside the pavement. She anticipated distorted edges which might rip her flesh and splinter bones while she continued like an exhalation, diving into falling down‌
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