Falling Short

The night sky was overcast hiding most of the stars behind wispy clouds. A dark shadow moved amongst both star and cloud riding the air currents like a bird of prey.

Tilting the steering bar, Jenny forced the hang-glider into a dive aimed sharply at the tree covered ground below. At the last minute she snapped the nose up. Grunting at the sudden jerk, she pressed the button to retract the wings and collapse the glider into her backpack. By the time her shoes met the ground, there was no trace of the glider at all.

Tapping the buttons on her iWatch, Jenny whispered, “Professor. Professor, are you there?”

The ping of a chime preceded the bald head that appeared on the screen of her watch. “Yes. Are you in position?”

“Yeah, but I need a diversion to get close enough to get pictures. I saw ’bout a hundred guards while I was airborne.”

“Will this do?”

The sky lit up in a myriad of lights as Harold’s Purple Crayon uncloaked.


His wild laughter was soon drowned out by air raid sirens.

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