There are invisible glass rods at every street corner, reaching towards the heavens.
Aeroplanes jump from pole to pole, mapping routes to their destinations, making delicate landings on the fragile shafts, playing excuse-me with all the other planes, keeping it smooth. Country dancing on stilts.
The passengers don’t know this. They believe that there is science, that gravity is so weak it can be defied that easily.
Or they believe that silent prayers to their invisible glass gods can keep them in the air, keep them safe, as their gods play excuse-me with all the other gods.
Sherri Turner has had numerous short stories published in magazines and has won prizes for both poetry and short stories in competitions including the Bristol Prize, the Wells Literary Festival and the Bridport Prize. Her work has also appeared in many anthologies and in various places online. She tweets at @STurner4077.
Love the concept and the story!
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