Down the steps of the subway station, and suddenly, vertigo.

I was here. I’ve been here.

She stood near the gap, turning slowly, looking around, confusion widening her eyes, furrowing her brow.

What is it about this place?

She catches a glimpse of an electric blue coat, and a shock of whiteblonde hair in the crowd, and laughter, lost in the spin and swirl of the crowd.

The crowd, the push, pull crush of it.

Helen. Arthur. Tyler. Genevieve.

The names are like a suckerpunch; they leave her gasping for air, leaning over, hands on her knees. “Oh, fuck,” she breathed, shaking her head, lifting one hand to her mouth.

“Not me. Not me,” she begged, and ran for the yellow line, leaping into the gap, leaving it all behind.

About Catastrophe Jones

Wretched word-goblin with enough interests that they're not particularly awesome at any of them. Terrible self-esteem and yet prone to hilarious bouts of hubris. Full of the worst flavors of self-awareness. Owns far too many craft supplies. Will sing to you at the slightest provocation.
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0 Responses to Leap

  1. Trent Lewin says:

    Now that was disturbing, Jones. Who are these people she is mentioning?

    And have you seen the movie Sucker Punch? I think you might like it.

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