I Can Fly #FreeFiction

Today’s story is a little flash piece i wrote while part of an online writing group called Liberty Hall. It’s called I Can Fly. While it’s not long, it has been called disturbing.

This story is a mere 500 words. It is my 20th published story, and originally appeared in the July 2008 issue of The Written Word. It was also podcasted as part of Jack Mangan’s Deadpan in September of 2008.


Rick Novy

My name is Jem, and I can fly.  I didn’t always know how, but after my mommy flew away, I discovered I have this secret power.  All I do is ride my bike.  The faster I pedal, the higher I fly.  Someday, I’m going to fly to her.

My school bus is passing the old amusement park in our town.  The school bus goes past it every day.  The old ferris wheel is rusting, and the old rollercoaster is falling down.  Mommy said the park closed before I was born.  She said flying in airplanes is like riding on a rollercoaster.  She was flying in an airplane when she went away.  Mommy was a pilot, and she just loved flying her little airplane from our town’s little airport.  Even more, she just loved to fly.  That’s how I know she flew away after the airplane crashed.  My daddy said she’s an angel now, and angels fly high.

The bus is stopping and it’s time to get off.   My daddy says he can’t afford day care, so my gramma watches me after school, even though she’s old.  The bus leaves with its smelly fumes.  I wave to my gramma, and she waves back.  I think I’ll get on my bike and practice flying.  Gramma lets me ride around the block.  We live in a safe neighborhood.

I can fly pretty high when I go around the block, especially at the hill.  I’m flying right now, but I can’t fly high enough to see any angels.  I miss my mommy, and I want to see her.  I need to fly higher.  I have an idea.  It was a long ride to get to the amusement park, but I’m finally here.  There’s a hole in the fence, but I’ll just fly over the top.  I’m flying around the amusement park, but I can’t fly very high because I can’t find any hills.  The only hill I see is the old rollercoaster.  That hill is big enough to let me fly to the angels.

I’m trying to fly to the top, but I can’t fly high enough, so I’m flying around the rollercoaster to find another way up.  I see some stairs going to the top.  I land my bike part-way up the stairs and have to pull it the rest of the way up. 

I’m at the top.  The hill looks perfect.  It’s very steep.  I know this hill will make me go fast enough to fly as high as the angels, then I’ll catch up with my mommy.  I’m not scared at all, sitting on my bike at the top of the rollercoaster track.  I give a good push with my feet and hold on tight.  I don’t even have to pedal.  Faster, faster I go.

I’m flying!  I’m flying!  I see angels!


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