
He plummeted from the third-floor window, wind rushing past his ears. Glass shards glimmered like icy raindrops all around him as he hurtled to the ground, counting out his impending doom. One. Two. Three! He screamed internally.
Impact.
A spine-cracking thud.
Air escaped his lungs, leaving him wheezing and curled in defeat. Glass pierced his back, but his legs were intact, he wiggled his toes, a small relief.
More shards fell, menacingly sharp.
Helpless, he shielded his head, the debris slicing through his woolen coat, threatening to tear him apart.
He shrugged. “Good thing I'm made out of jelly!"
About the Creator
JP Harris
I like writing kooky stories
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