“I got the job!” Michelle, my roommate, is so excited she can’t stand it. I watch her jump up and down, do two laps around the apartment, and call her parents. “Let’s go to dinner to celebrate.”

She throws open the window in our high rise. “I got the job, everyone,” she yells from the open orifice. “I got an offer from…” her voice cut off. When I turn around, she is gone. I freeze. It takes me more than a few seconds to realize she isn’t hiding in the apartment somewhere. I walk to the window, slowly. I float. I can’t really feel my feet.

When I lean over the ledge, I see her, but not splattered into the cement like I thought she would be. Michelle is just floating in the air, below the edge of the window.

“Got you.” She grabs me by my shirt collar and pulls me from the apartment, then lets me go. I watch the street approach. My stomach flys to my throat. My joints tingle from the adrenaline. I turn over just in time to see her crawl back into our window. I close my eyes.




Copyright WB Welch – All Rights Reserved

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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