He was falling in the dark. He didn't know from where but there was just enough light coming in through the window for him to see himself, as if apart from his body, slowly tumbling end-over-end. His arms were wrapped around his lower legs. His knees were drawn up to his chest. Fetal, as he somersaulted down through the ceiling towards the top bunk. It took a long time. Slow-motion. Tumble. Tumble. Tumble. Where had he been? Why was he coming back in this manner? Why was he watching it happen instead of experiencing it? Three revolutions and then contact with the bed. As he hit the mattress, with a start – he woke.
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It's Just the Dark
Short StoryA man tours a potential new home and it triggers memories of his past paranormal experiences. Does he have an overactive imagination or is there really something there?
