(100-word flash fiction)


The chair topples on the first kick. As if on cue, she steps outside herself.


She is amazed at how the body is wired for survival, as she watches the legs, puppet-like, kick into thin air. Chest straining, by habit, trying to suck in air, so abundant outside. Face crimsoning as blood rushes to her brain. Bells going on inside, screaming ‘Mayhem!’ ‘Mayhem!’


She loses all sense of time. And that dreary greyness that had festered inside her like a light-sucking ghost. She crackles with an aliveness her body had never felt. Unimaginable lightness fills her being.


The door opens.



Rochelle has posted a lovely image for this week’s Friday Fictioneers prompt.


Photo  © Ted Strutz

38 comments on “Suspended

  1. Dear Jolly,

    That’s what I mean when I challenge writers with the Thoreau quote. It’s not what you’re looking at. What does go through a person’s mind in those last moments? I think you’ve captured those thoughts. Well done.



  2. If I had a choice, I’d rather not die that way. Let it be peaceful. A peaceful death also is easier for your family. I’m so glad both my parents died peacefully. Good , even graphic, description though. Well written, J.J. —- Suzanne

C'mon, don't be a silent spectator ....

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