Storage of stories written for The Bradbury, 2025 and 2026. |
| Responsibility I told you that I can’t stand heights, that my will faints when on the edge, and my body longs to fling itself into the abyss. You never listen, do you, and you didn’t this time either. And still you push me right to the highest point, where the awareness of the void at my feet calls to me whether my eyes are open or not. “Don’t look down,” you say, as though that makes a difference. So it’s no wonder that I am seized by vertigo and, in clutching at your support, I sent you spinning to your death. Word count: 100 For The Bradbury 2026, Week 2 |