Fall: Freier

He kicked the emergency door open. The roar of the wind was a physical blow, a wall of ice and noise. He looked back at the terrified faces in the cabin, but there was no time for heroics, only physics. He stepped out.

Elias drifted down, landing in a soft field of clover. He lay there for a long time, staring up at the empty blue sky, his heart hammering against his ribs. He had survived the fall, but he knew he’d left a piece of himself up there in the clouds—the part that was ever afraid of letting go. Freier Fall

Most people fear the fall. But Elias, drifting through the sky at 120 mph, felt a strange, chilling peace. In the fall, there are no taxes, no broken hearts, and no deadlines. There is only the wind and the countdown. He kicked the emergency door open

For the first ten seconds, it was chaos. He tumbled, the world a blurring kaleidoscope of gray clouds and screaming blue sky. Then, he arched his back, spread his arms, and found his "box" position. The chaos turned into a cushion. He stepped out

With a roar of effort, he yanked the secondary handle. A snap like a gunshot echoed through his bones as the white silk bloomed above him. The violent jerk nearly knocked him unconscious, but then, the world went quiet again. The screaming wind became a gentle hiss.