My white knuckles grip the safety bar. Heights, speed, lack of control– things I avoid at all costs.
I connect the video call, phone shaking. His gaunt, beautiful face calms my nerves.
“I knew you wouldn’t deny a dying man one last rush.” His eyes sparkle, though his body, plump and sweet only months earlier, has withered like a winter apple.
Through the screen he watches the sky. The coaster climbs.
“I hope you’re happy.” My fear is overwhelming.
“Turn the phone, I want to watch you.” I lock into his eyes and scream as we plummet.
Christy Hartman is a Canadian short fiction writer based on stunning Vancouver Island. She is published in Elegant Literature, Bright Flash Literary Review, and Fairfield Scribes among others. When not writing, Christy can be found floating in the Pacific Ocean or in her kitchen experimenting with creative vegan meals and trying to convince her husband they taste like chicken.
Patreon keeps us going. You can be part of that.
