Saturday, January 15, 2011

Thousand: Two Hundred Fifty-Six

to trust this man, spirit, whatever he is, Samuel lets himself be led. Down what seems to be a long, gradual staircase they step. Samuel can’t see the stairs, perhaps they are entirely invisible and only the darkness of the night prevents vertigo. He’s stood on the very edge of cliffs and high building ledges and the drop has seemed to draw him, making him breathless, dizzy. He does glance back, the penthouse already so far above, and he sees something dimly illuminated by the lights pouring out the picture windows. A figure? Standing. Out in the air? It’s okay.


Dave King said...

Wow! I can see why you are releasing this in such small doses... few would have the strength of nerve to survive lengthy extracts. I went back a few t get into it, but wow, terrific stuff is this! Edge of the seat stuff.

Glenn Ingersoll said...

Thanks for reading, Dave.

As I write only 100 words a day it can take a long time for a scene to progress - and I don't myself know exactly where it's going to go.