If I had a hundred mathematically-large-enough


I’d cram the strings together

in a woven vest and rise higher


through rain-gilded cloudscape.

I’d subsist on vapors, or maybe on sunrise ambrosia –

till atmospheric pressure (or somesuch scientific phenomenon)

popped just one


Then I’d drop more rapidly than I rose:

the most obsequious, impotent adherent to Gravity and his unalterable law.

But really, I have to admit

-as I revisit clouds and ambrosia rays and treetops drawing nearer-

I was never free

and soon

I am right back where I started,

amidst 99 deflated spheres of red.


Carrot Ranch Flash Fiction Challenge.

9 thoughts on “Escape

  1. Charli Mills March 15, 2018 / 12:28 am

    I love the imaginative vision and lyrical language (sunrise ambrosia) brought down by scientific phenomenon.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Michael B. Fishman March 16, 2018 / 8:32 am

    I don’t visualize well so I love things that make me visualize and you did that here. You made me feel a little sad but that’s not a bad thing (or a criticism), it’s the opposite.

    Liked by 1 person

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