The Sky is Falling

It seems like every step I take crack the surface, the blue fading below my feet as the ants below tremble. They were swift to scatter upon the arrival of the solidified shade of blue. What they saw would blind them, for they could not see what laid beyond the barrier.

Space? Perhaps in another world, but my presence stands above those inside the limited world they live in. As for my control, perhaps one could declare my presence as a bystander. Would I consider myself a deity? With the power to crush ants with mere footsteps, perhaps so.

Narcissist? I dare you to enlighten me with such bold words under the sky I step. Or perhaps you are unable to.

Fiction, a title I have been given plenty, but now I come out with light steps taken being their demise. There would soon be no sky left to step on, no ants left to swarm, and no footing for me to step on.

But what does that matter? I’m merely fiction? My demise or theirs, what did any of it matter?

So I’ll gladly take the plunge, offer my body to gravity and embrace the eventual fall to take place. For the sky falls under the steps I take.

Yet… Every step taken is hesitant and shaky. A reluctance I attempt to ignore, for the thought of meddling with those below me is bothersome. Could one explain this? Why do I not care to finish my walk?

Ethics? And with whom to enforce those?

Connections? As if I associated with anyone past the sky.

The steps I took slowed, hesitance soon finding control before I eventually stopped hurdling chunks of solid sky down. The sight below my feet, however, was nothing less than utter panic.

It didn’t take long for a sharp pang to hit my chest, guilt flushing quickly as I watched the ants go about. They ran, flames started, vehicles were speeding, and some of them just laid still.

Right… Maybe a part of them is still in me.

But no matter how hard I try, I am unable to do anything but watch from above the sky. Not a word uttered from my lips can reach them, not a hand nor a foot could cross between the line. The one bit of influence I had was chosen, chosen destruction for a lack of care.

It was easy to laugh, but difficult to watch. By the time the realization hit, it was far too late. The sky was falling, the sky must fall. Or must I stand above in silence as I watch the work below my feet unfold, in which only terror and despair could continue.

I took another step. Untouchable, but never have I ever felt so damaged for my actions.

Fantasy

Noel Winter View All →

Care to read a few tales? I just happen to have a few!

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