Ficly

Wings

William looked over the cliff side, his stomach doing somersaults. The river, snaking through the valley below, sparkled in the afternoon sun. “I… I can’t.” He backed away from the precipice.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, Will,” Jane replied rolling her eyes. “You have to be the only thing on the face of the earth that has wings and is afraid of heights.” Will’s wings twitched in silent agitation. “You mean to tell me you’ve never flown? Ever?”

William blushed. “No, I’ve done it before. Just… not this high.”

“So, what, you flew off the roof of your house or something?” Jane grabbed a rock and hurled it over the edge, watching as it disappeared from view.

“Not exactly. I’ve flown off the porch, though.”

“Sounds like what you need is motivation,” Jane said, walking forward. “How long do you think it takes to get to the bottom?”

William shrugged. “I dunno.” Jane stepped up to the ledge. “Janey, you’re scaring me.”

“Thirty seconds?” She smiled back at him. “Let’s find out.”

She fell into the void.

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