San Francisco, California
Plunging to the earth, he struggled
to control his breathing as his insides clawed through his skin. More than
forty thousand people stared at him, the latest cause célèbre. The world moved in slow motion, even as he
plummeted. The wind whipped around his denim jeans and through his curly hair.
As he descended, the explosive roar of the crowd became deafening. Hysterical
fans screamed, danced, clapped, and slapped high-fives.
This
was it, the moment he’d waited for his entire life; the moment his older, wiser
brother had described countless times; the moment when he’d reap the rewards
sown over years of discipline, toil, and resolve.
He
wiped tears from his eyes and saw Alcatraz in the distance, the abandoned
fortress of rock and steel attached to an island floating on the choppy,
blue-green waters of San Francisco Bay. He thought about the psychopaths who’d
once inhabited the Rock. People portrayed as standard-bearers for civilization
believed—actually hoped—that some of
the Rock’s erstwhile denizens had escaped justice—at least earthly justice. He
thought about those criminals and their deranged supporters. They had never
dedicated their lives to any noble, enlightening cause. They had never
experienced the fulfillment he enjoyed.
He focused
his attention back on the gathered crowd. Those in attendance had paid
hundreds—some thousands—of dollars
for this show. His show. He noticed
the multitudes dressed in black and citrus orange. Some had arrived early in
anticipation of the once-in-a-lifetime extravaganza. Many brought small
children and purchased pink cotton candy, lemonade, and over-priced novelty
items to commemorate the day. Those in the most expensive seats, he thought,
had invited their agents or perhaps the CEOs of their best corporate clients. Pride
overtook him as he witnessed the 46,500 people congregated en masse to take part in this moment.
He truly was
a star.
He
pulled the steering toggles of his parachute, slowing his descent. A high-speed
approach was unwarranted. There was no reason to hasten this experience, but
rather, he desired to relish it. There was little turbulence. His bright red-
and yellow-striped canopy remained stable, so landing wouldn’t be a problem.
Flaring techniques wouldn’t be needed. As he approached his landing zone, he
witnessed the rosy faces in the crowd. No empty seat in sight. Making sure not
to disappoint, he smiled and waved at the surprised onlookers.
Fighter
jets circled for another fly-by. What a
great show! he thought. As the F-16 Falcons blazed overhead, the crowd
started the wave. His older, wiser brother couldn’t have planned this event any
better.
He
tugged on the parachute’s toggles once again, further slowing his fall toward
the baseball stadium, making him seem suspended in mid-air, suspended in time.
As he adjusted his body in the parachute harness, he spied the escort gathering
below, beyond the tips of his tattered white sneakers, waiting for his arrival.
Right on time. No longer anxious about his magnificent entrance, his heartbeat
slowed. Everything was proceeding by design. Nothing would go wrong at this
stage.
The
parachute’s canopy shielded his vision, but he trusted the stand-alone cargo
was descending on course. The plan had evolved through several iterations, each
relying upon successful landings. The show’s success depended on his cohort
releasing the cargo at the precise moment so it would land at the precise spot.
There was no doubt the calculations would be exact. His older, wiser brother
had promised the cargo-carrying parachutes would descend true to course, and
his brother’s word was bond. The show would prove to be a resounding success.
As
he descended closer to the chaos, all sounds faded. His ears enjoyed a blissful
silence. He pulled down on the parachute’s toggles one last time. The plush
green grass and manicured red dirt came into focus. His great moment had
arrived. He closed his eyes and meditated on his past struggles. He thought
about his childhood and his family. He thought about the woman he’d loved so
dearly who’d died not long ago. If she could only see him now. He was a hero.
This would be an event for the ages. He would go down in history as the man who
changed the world with his rave performance.
His
eyes reopened. Home plate was seconds away. He saw the police officers
waiting—weapons drawn, handcuffs twirling, scowls pasted on their pompous American faces.
A
second later, his feet slammed to the ground.
And
his world went dark.
A few miles away, the man’s older, wiser brother descended in his parachute, wiping away his own tears—tears of joy for the martyr his younger brother had just become.
I liked the excerpt, thank you.
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ReplyDeleteSounds like an intriguing read.
ReplyDeleteNu am putut rămâne însărcinată timp de 9 ani după căsătorie,
ReplyDeleteEu și soțul meu am devenit atât de îngrijorați, încât am căutat diferite remedii pentru a rămâne însărcinată un an, până când m-am întâlnit cu doctorul DAWN, care o ajută pe cea mai bună prietenă a mea să rămână însărcinată atunci când nu a putut concepe,
I-am explicat totul acestui medic și a promis că mă va ajuta, i-am oferit tot ce mi-a cerut,
Spre surprinderea mea am ramas insarcinata in 1 luna si 2 saptamani, acum am 2 copii frumosi, totul datorita doctorului DAWN,
Contacteaza-l daca vrei sa ramai insarcinata.
Dacă vrei să-ți aduci înapoi fostul iubit.
Dacă vrei să vindeci orice fel de boală.
Dacă vrei să câștigi la loterie sau să câștigi cazul Curt.
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