Another 30-minute story fragment written for writing group. I believe the prompt involved falling from very high into a hole. I hope you enjoy it!
Falling dreams. I’m weird, see–I like them. And so I liked this, in some demented way, underneath the chatter of horror at what had happened to the plane. I’d just been flying home from the family in Kentucky. I think the back of my head hadn’t realized that more than a hundred people had just died, and I was about to, and it wasn’t a dream. The back of my head is sometimes slow on the uptake. It was a good feeling, excitement and freedom and homecoming all in one. Perhaps said back of the head wasn’t being clueless–perhaps it had intimations of the afterlife. Or it was just going on about freedom–freedom from responsibility and helplessness in the face of doom–
I was at this point in my self-analysis when the ground began coming into focus. I saw streets, houses, lawns–certain death, though I idly considered taking off my sweater and trying to use it as a parachute.
At this point, I noticed two things. Number one, I should have been dead already from cold and lack of oxygen. This mediated strongly in favor of my being in a dream, but everything felt too gloriously real for that. Number two, I was falling toward a hole in the ground. Number two didn’t seem as interesting as number one until the voice entered my head.
Greetings, and all such stuff. It was a booming, amusing voice. As it spoke, the words it said scrolled across my inner vision. You have nothing to fear.
“Who the–” I said aloud, as the hole approached.
Creatures of your genetic makeup do not die of such trivial causes as cold, suffocation, fire, or impact, first. Second, we will give you a pleasant landing with our antigravity when you reach the facility. The hole will close behind you. We’ve been waiting for you a long time and we are deeply grateful that the energy fields have so aligned that we can secure your person.
What happened to the plane, I wondered. Was it their fault?
Yes. Do not mourn the humans. We have images of all of them and can recreate them should you feel the sentimental desire that we do so.
Of Elsewhere 