Up, Up, and Away

People are always telling me how they'd love to be able to fly, too. "It must be wonderful," they sigh, "being so free." I smile and agree that freedom is good, mouthing empty platitudes. People think I'm humble.

They don't understand.

Do you know how the air force helps train astronauts? You can mimic freefall if your plane is flying downward at a steep enough angle. It feels like you're floating, at least until the plane pulls out of the dive.

I can't actually fly.

We're all falling, all of the time. I'm just the only one who can tell.

And the Sky and the Ground and the Cold, Cold Air

He sat on the floor of his apartment. The wind whistled through the window, cold and taunting. He had no furniture. The carpet in the corner was torn up a little at the edges, but his bleeding fingers had failed at the task in the end, leaving crimson smears on the padding. He stared outside. There were sirens now, on the street where his furnishings were piled and smashed from the fall. He had not achieved lift. He was still too heavy.

He looked around. The bare apartment contained nothing else.

He stood. He breathed in.

He began to run.

Ozymandius Plans Ahead

Ozymandius felt the wind in his fur as he plummeted. The curvature of the Earth was visible, far below.

"What's all this, then?" said a dark form, swooping in. Swiffin, Prince of Birds, was currently an oversized raven.

"Well, it was going to be flying," said Ozzy, "but it isn't working out."

"Cats can't fly."

"Right. I was going to fix that. Can you help me land?"

"And why were you learning to fly?" Swiffin cocked his head.

Ozzy thought. "Definitely not to catch birds and eat them."

There was a pause. "I suppose that counts as subtle, for cats."

The Day the Ground Swallowed Love

Most politicians weren’t affected, but several celebrities – particularly artists and writers – were swallowed up instantly. For the majority, the new weight just dragged them down a few inches. One unfortunate woman was on the fifteenth story when the weight of all twelve of her lovers hit her; she fell through three floors and was declared dead on arrival.

In a lonely apartment, we found a bearded youth bumping gently along the ceiling. “Really?” we asked him. “No one at all cares for you?”

He shrugged, politely declining our assistance in getting down. We left him and waded outside and down.

Ground Pounder

The heavy treads displace enormous amounts of the soft mud, even wide as they are. The sheer bulk of the mining robots threatens to stretch the earth to its breaking point.

Yesterday, there was a great deal of excitement. One of the robots veered off course. It broke the perimeter, heading for the spaceport and the landing strip. It left devastation in its wake. The damages totaled over ten million dollars.

Today, the robot was repaired and returned to work. Even now, its treads gather mud and filth as it turns its optics skyward, where shuttles soar into endless night.