Falling Skyward

Our protagonist awoke to a familiar scene in a cold sweat. The moonlight that peered through the lone window faintly illuminated the room. His heart beat furiously; the throb of it pulsing like some kind of postmodern rave. He had no recollection of the dream that caused him to wake in such a state. The sheets were soaked, cold and unbearable in the late night air. He kicked them off and sat upright, breathing heavy and looking around the room. His eyes wandered aimlessly for a bit, kissing the surface of the unadorned white walls, the half-open closet with the stray hanger glinting through the darkness, the bookshelf filled with books seemingly placed at random. Brushing over the dresser on the other side of the room, his eyes suddenly fixated on an object resting on top of it.

A notebook. Single subject. Spiral bound, college-ruled. It had the well-worn look of a baseball cap you've had since high school. And it was open. He stood up from the bed and walked over to the notebook. Page two, entitled, “Illusory.” He ran his fingers over the words as if he expected them to feel any different than paper.

His eyes quivered momentarily, a faltering of his normally placid composure. He looked to his right and picked up a picture frame. Holding the gold-rimmed memento in both hands, he explored its details, even though he knew them all too well. Steeling his jaw and his resolve, he firmly placed the frame on the dresser, face down. He turned around and drew a breath deep into his lungs. Peering down at his feet, he noticed the long rectangle of moonlight bathing them. He made his way over to the window taking slow, calculated steps.

The view from the window was something. One could see over most of the buildings around it and into the surrounding bay. The moon shone wondrously on the water in the distance. These were the thoughts that ran through our protagonist's mind shortly before he took the step that placed him in free fall.

He didn't much like looking at the ground, so he twisted himself around to watch the sky fall away. Cracked and uneven asphalt always seemed depressing and somewhat pedestrian. The night presented his eyes with an endless abyss, fraught with mystery and intrigue. Even though that boring asphalt below stopped his body, his mind continued on, past the gas pipes and electrical lines, through the sewers and beyond what may have been the fossils of the missing link. Deep, through miles of earth his mind penetrated until finally, it reached the warm, comforting center, and his thoughts dimmed to nothing.