#RomanticFridayWriters challenge for June 17 - My story, 'Up, up and away' - an adrenalin rush.

For this week's challenge I'm posting a rejigged version of a published story called '60 Seconds.' Some of you may have read an excerpt ages ago. After so many positive comments I knew I was onto a winner, so I then polished it and submitted it to a fiction magazine in Australia. It was published recently. This new version is quite different, but lots of fun to do for the weekly theme. Enjoy!

Up, up and away!

‘Too dangerous!’ Fazie yelled. ‘You have children. No more jumping from planes. Not on your birthday. The kids’ll be devastated if you’re late for your party.’

‘It’s my birthday Faze, my 30^th. I told you I was planning something new.’

‘Skydiving’s not new.’

‘Going solo is.’

‘Solo! Think of the kids if you won’t think of me.’

‘They’ll be proud. I was hoping you would be too, facing my fears and all.’

‘You’re afraid of nothing, not even of letting me down.’

‘This jump’s not about you Faze. I’m challenging myself! I’m sorry I’ve disappointed you.’

‘I love you Jilli. I’m terrified of losing you.’

***

Your life really does flash before you as you die.

My parachute’s stuck. I’m not going to hear that thunderous whoosh, or see that puff of parachute silk billowing skyward. Nah, this time it’s just me, the sky and that old enemy, gravity. 

I’m drowning in wind and velocity as I plummet towards the ground with a flickering movie playing in my head – I see my children’s faces, Flo’s smile smeared with my bright red lipstick, Mikki’s high five after the soccer game. Their birthday parties flicker and I’m sorry I probably won’t share any more. Today they’ll be waiting to yell ‘Surprise! Clever Mummy!’ Fazie flickers into the scene. I hear his voice catch on his last words to me: ‘You’ll be sorry!’ 

I love you Fazie. I’m sorry now.

***

I’m dropping like a lead ball, faster, faster. Probably 60 seconds to impact. Think! Think! The adrenalin surges through me and I know what to do. I lunge backward, extend my arms and bend my knees so the back of my head nearly touches my heels. Now I can make a turn just by twisting my upper body. 

People have survived a free fall from 50,000 feet. I’m at less than 11,000 so I must have a chance. Survival float, it’s called. Choose a drop zone, a nice soft spot preferably. A sand dune would do.

Yes! My speed’s slowed and I’m heading towards the beach. I can hear the sound of wind screaming in my ears and my desperate prayers…‘help-me-help-me-oh-God-oh-Godddd...’

About 30 seconds left. 

 Any moment now. Bend knees! Drop zone! Dip shoulder left. Here comes the ground - colours blending-whirling-blue-green-sandy-use balls of feet-point toes-swish-thump-roll-bounce-cover head-arms over ears-elbows up-hold tight-grassy knoll-thump-thump-thump-ouch-ooh-ah…

‘Jilli!’

***

©DeniseCovey2011

This is my story of 400 words for #RomanticFridayWriters.
Click on the image above to read more stories from the talented writers
 of prose and poetry who post on Fridays.

I'm actually up, up and away in the air today, Friday 17, heading for Korea, France, Spain, Morocco and Andorra. I won't be able to post a RFW story for a month but I'm travelling with my netbook and a patient husband so I will be able to read your comments and maybe make a few comments of my own.