Posted on: November 21st, 2010 Don’t Look

by H.L. Fullerton

Felk glided along the fourth ring of hell, making good time. He’d retrieve his family’s honor and return home before the dead could smell him.

The Anghelescus–acrobats all–prepared their sons well. Felk trained from birth for this moment: uncles tossing him blindfolded from platforms to land on fence posts; cousins trying to distract him with shrieks or thrown sneakers as he balanced atop wires, hung from rafters, skated circles on thin ice. He succeeded when other Anghelescus failed by always following the family motto: never look down. That was how you fell and abandoned honor.

Felk hand-walked the rim of five, rappelled six, easily ignoring the insidious lies. The damned had nothing on his cousins. He should thank them for their creativity, right after he handed grandfather the family honor. A chorus of fallen Anghelescus shouted, “Don’t look!” as he passed. He didn’t, but smiled at their applause.

Seven, slicked with blood, required a controlled skid. So close now, one ring left. Honor swelled towards him, almost in reach. Shining brightly, begging him for rescue.

He looked.

And, prideful, fell.

Filed under: bad-ass, stories

2 Responses to “Don’t Look”

  1. Sandra M. Odell Says:
    November 22nd, 2010 at 7:05 am

    Short, sweet, to the point. A tight little tale that does not waste words or intent. Well done.

  2. Sandra M. Odell Says:
    November 22nd, 2010 at 7:05 am

    Short, sweet, to the point. A tight little tale that does not waste words or intent. Well done.

  3. Emily Stewart Says:
    November 23rd, 2010 at 2:53 pm

    Very cool story!

  4. Emily Stewart Says:
    November 23rd, 2010 at 2:53 pm

    Very cool story!