Sky Diving

Reads: 239  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
Please read my short story Sky Diving.

Submitted: June 02, 2013

A A A | A A A

Submitted: June 02, 2013

A A A

A A A


The floor was messy with several different types of acootrements. There is a big expansive set of windows, but we put in thick curtains which block them. It was the night that Felix Burgstromer was going to jump from the edge of space.

One evening I was watching the news and it said that Felix Burgstromer was going to board a shuttle, carried by a giant helium balloon, that'd go high, high up in the sky. And, then he'd jump out. The news reader was very sencible and read the news in a very serious voice.

I had dinner then watched television. Sam and I, Sam was my girlfriend, would flick back to "Channel Horray" just to check the progress. Wether they were going to send the balloon up tonight or not.

Sam goes to bed early, so she went to bed, and left me to watch the record attempt. It was a world record attempt, because, one, it was the highest height anyone has jumped from and, two, because it could be the longest free-fall by any sky diver.

I watched the telecaste, in that messy house. They were saying it was morning in America. There was a little wind, actually way up high, instead of at ground level, that would maybe ease as the morning went on, and the jump could go ahead. The news reporters said they would assess again at four a.m.

So I sat in the house, with mess all around me, under the tungsten fillament. I waited and waited and then waited some more, till four in the morning, when the news reporter said it was called off.

A curious thing happened that night though. I heard a flock of Gallahs flying all gargling shrilly - their mouths open with their reverberating tongues - flying in the pitch black. It is strange to hear birds flying in the cool air underneath dark street scape. It was also comforting in a way. The birds birds brought the magical air of the bush - that, despite not knowing it all the time, the city, with street lights and all, casting pools of light - is surrounded by.

I went to bed and slept into the afternoon.

"Sorry," I said to my girlfriend Sam. "I stayed up late last night and slept in. It is unfair, baby, that you have to sit here all morning by yourself, waiting for me to get up."

It was too. It is unfair if you have a partner, to be nocturnal, and only cross paths in the cross section between night and day, and being both nocturnal and diurnal.

We spent, what we had of the day, left, watching different programs on the television. We had dinner and then Sam went to bed at sundown. Sam is funny. Sometimes she goes to bed even while the sun is still up. I usually go to bed around twelve but tonight I flick over to the news. Felix Burgstromer is on. I stay glued to the TV waiting for four in the morning when the balloon would go up. The house was mess and the sunlight was starting to show itself for dawn.

(I don't know why it's so exciting watching TV about jumping from the edge of space. It is the beauty of the - projected to the TV - scenery of space and also the danger. Felix could die).

Something happened. Cockatoos, all in a gang, flew over our flat complex, squarking like crazy, showing off about their ability to fly. Again this gave me a sence of the intergration of everything in nature. My eyes were dry and I'd smoked one hundred ciggarettes in the expansive window'd messy floored flat.

The next day I woke up at three p.m and felt guilty about leaving Sam agian alone. Sam's a big, blonde woman who takes medication. We both take medication.

At dinner time the news started and afterwards Sam went to bed. At twelve, when I usually go to bed, I flicked over the chanel and the news reader said there was a ninety percent chance of the balloon going up tonight. So at four in the morning I flicked over and I watched Felix Burgstromer and his balloon go up, up, up and up on a six-am-in-America morning, and a four-am-in-Australia morning and I watched the balloon go up, up and up.


© Copyright 2019 The Sheep. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:

More Flash Fiction Short Stories