Saturday, November 29, 2008

On the Ledge

“Now what?” Darren wanted to know. The wind tugged at his jacket.

“Well, the way I see it, you’ve only got a couple options left at this point,” said the pigeon. It smoothed an errant feather. “You could squeeze back in through the window and try claiming it was all a misunderstanding…”

The door inside burst open and three black-suited men piled through, shouting.

“Well, that’s out,” said the pigeon. “So that leaves one.” It flexed its wings.

Darren gazed down at the small crowd that had already begun to gather. “Jump?”

The pigeon chortled as it fluttered away. “Fly.”

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