Friday in Hell
Short Story (Fantasy)
Excerpt: “The last thing Frank Jefferson remembered was making a left turn down 33rd from Broadway.The cold bit at him like a hundred rabid dachshunds. Jefferson opened his eyes and blinked repeatedly. With a start, he woke and sat upright. A cry of shock rushed from him.Frank Jefferson was on a flat-topped stone pinnacle, hundreds of feet high. The top was about six feet across, five inches more than he was tall, and appeared to be polished granite. A cold wind fluttered his only covering, a fine white robe.Shaking due to his fear of heights, Jefferson chanced a look over the side. The pillar was nearly featureless. No possible way to climb down. At the base was a stony plain. Jagged rocks pointed upward like the serrated teeth of a hungry shark, yearning for a victim.There were many other pinnacles; some taller, only three or four lower than his. Most had people on them. None were close enough to allow communication. Jefferson tried waving and yelling but was unheard or ignored.”
Short Story (Fantasy)
Excerpt: “The last thing Frank Jefferson remembered was making a left turn down 33rd from Broadway.The cold bit at him like a hundred rabid dachshunds. Jefferson opened his eyes and blinked repeatedly. With a start, he woke and sat upright. A cry of shock rushed from him.Frank Jefferson was on a flat-topped stone pinnacle, hundreds of feet high. The top was about six feet across, five inches more than he was tall, and appeared to be polished granite. A cold wind fluttered his only covering, a fine white robe.Shaking due to his fear of heights, Jefferson chanced a look over the side. The pillar was nearly featureless. No possible way to climb down. At the base was a stony plain. Jagged rocks pointed upward like the serrated teeth of a hungry shark, yearning for a victim.There were many other pinnacles; some taller, only three or four lower than his. Most had people on them. None were close enough to allow communication. Jefferson tried waving and yelling but was unheard or ignored.”
Short Story (Fantasy)
Excerpt: “The last thing Frank Jefferson remembered was making a left turn down 33rd from Broadway.The cold bit at him like a hundred rabid dachshunds. Jefferson opened his eyes and blinked repeatedly. With a start, he woke and sat upright. A cry of shock rushed from him.Frank Jefferson was on a flat-topped stone pinnacle, hundreds of feet high. The top was about six feet across, five inches more than he was tall, and appeared to be polished granite. A cold wind fluttered his only covering, a fine white robe.Shaking due to his fear of heights, Jefferson chanced a look over the side. The pillar was nearly featureless. No possible way to climb down. At the base was a stony plain. Jagged rocks pointed upward like the serrated teeth of a hungry shark, yearning for a victim.There were many other pinnacles; some taller, only three or four lower than his. Most had people on them. None were close enough to allow communication. Jefferson tried waving and yelling but was unheard or ignored.”