Flash Fiction: Outrunning The Storm

I will not bore you with the weather, but Goddamn was it something worth running from at the moment. My feet keep hitting the pavement with a rhythm. The rhythm of motion and of panic.

“Ride the bounce, ride the bounce,” I say.

And I do. It’s not so much running now as it is my feet hitting and rebounding. Newton’s Laws in real world use.

“Hey, where you going?” yells a girl as I pass.

I’m dumb: so I answer. She’s the type of pretty that makes guys like me stumble on our own words.

I do well enough though.

“The storm!” Continue reading