As he fell, he waited for...
Fun With Prompts 004
The following is a warm-up writing based on the provided prompt: As he fell, he waited for…
As he fell, he waited for the inevitable release of reality, hurtling his existence past the point of the chaos of life, and into the splendor of being removed. It wasn't that he hated life, but he cringed anytime he felt someone had it easy. The story he knew all too well was that of failure, remorse, and never living up to what goals had been established for himself. Yet, there was a moment when he knew that this fall might not be his end.
Sure, an enemy kicked him from the top of the (honestly exquisite) high-rise building, but the water below him somehow looked promising. Then, in a flash, the water shattered around him, cascading up as if a nuclear explosion had hit it. He knew things were broken, he could feel the electric jolt of pain as he screamed out in agony. Of course, no words were audible, only pointless gurgles that did little to quell the reality of the moment. He hadn't yet faded into the oblivious black, or seen the tunnel with angels awaiting his entry into the afterlife. In fact, as he looked up, he could see...something. Light? Yes, light!
How was he alive? How could the fall not have ended his short, albeit mostly useless, existence? It didn't matter, because as he swam up and crested the top of the water, he could feel the snap of pain in his lower leg. He hadn't had time to think of how he slammed into the water, only that it happened, and that what he thought would kill him has now somehow made him...more? No, he isn't more per se, he is just still him...a little broken, but somehow still alive. What is next? How could he survive a painful swim to the edge of this river? Even if he did, what happens when he gets back up there?
He patted down his side, curious if he still had his weapon. It must have been dislodged from his holster during impact. How different things might have been, if he had known what was about to happen, and had the time to turn around and draw. He floated on his back for a moment, looking up at the side of the building and thinking how if he were a little quicker, he would still be all the way up there.
Surely, Mr. Ginzald was rushing down in the elevator right now to come and examine if the job was done. This was the moment of decision. Does he float around and wait to be shot like a fish in a barrel, does he try and swim away, or does he try to go on the offensive?
He shimmied out of his suit coat, grimacing at the new pain he had just uncovered in his arm. He allowed the suit coat to float on the top of the water and rolled over, diving down into the water.
“Let ‘em think I’m dead…for now,” he thought.