glittering world

The Glittering World by

The Sun rose over the Bank of England and diamond rays shattered the last of the glass that remained. A cord rushed past her ankles, whipping out and almost taking her legs from under her. She could only watch as it hurtled past. Behind her, the sail caught and billowed out. Relieved to see it hold fast, she crouched low and made her way past the motor-housing, towards what had been the rear of the roof. She looked out at what remained. Bodies floated past crumbling buildings; the sheer waste of it all was difficult to take in. From somewhere out there came a loud crack like a gunshot. She flinched, and then stood without moving. She counted to 10, took a deep breath and turned back to the sail, tutting at herself for precious moments lost. Taking her place in the seat, she methodically checked the harness straps and gauges, thinking only of the task at hand. This part had to be right; her escape would be over if the harness broke or the engine was not up to it. She leaned over and, using all of her strength, pulled the steel bar from its slots. The machine slipped along the rails and sailed out into the air.




Sam Howroyd is a writer and editor living in North London.




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