I always knew there was a better place where everything is
perfect. It was a half formed idea but I worked out how to get there. I know how to reach the
perfect world. People think I'm crazy.... I'm
not....
So I raise the gun to my head, and squeeze the trigger.
I have a faint memory of pain and blood - and a gun that backfired. The broken lamp is different. I feel the same.
I leap from the balcony, and open my eyes in a swimming pool that wasn't there before, remembering hitting concrete.
I try again....
....and again....
cranked out for the ideath 100 words/10 minutes writing challenge.
Subject: "How do I get there?"