Freier Fall Today

In a true free fall, you don’t feel like you’re falling. You feel like you’re being held up by a pillar of invisible air. Elias watched the wreckage of the plane descend half a mile away, a trail of black smoke marking its path. He was alone in the blue, suspended between life and the inevitable earth.

The alarm clock didn’t wake Elias; the silence did. At thirty thousand feet, silence is a terrifying sound. Freier Fall

Most people fear the fall. But Elias, drifting through the sky at 120 mph, felt a strange, chilling peace. In the fall, there are no taxes, no broken hearts, and no deadlines. There is only the wind and the countdown. In a true free fall, you don’t feel like you’re falling

Elias drifted down, landing in a soft field of clover. He lay there for a long time, staring up at the empty blue sky, his heart hammering against his ribs. He had survived the fall, but he knew he’d left a piece of himself up there in the clouds—the part that was ever afraid of letting go. He was alone in the blue, suspended between

With a roar of effort, he yanked the secondary handle. A snap like a gunshot echoed through his bones as the white silk bloomed above him. The violent jerk nearly knocked him unconscious, but then, the world went quiet again. The screaming wind became a gentle hiss.

For the first ten seconds, it was chaos. He tumbled, the world a blurring kaleidoscope of gray clouds and screaming blue sky. Then, he arched his back, spread his arms, and found his "box" position. The chaos turned into a cushion.