Flash Fiction: Land Shift

by Chris McGinty

Slipping slightly, trying to find purchase in a failing landscape. It’s almost always time to wonder at the futility. It slides. It falls down in the most humiliating ways. Can I recover balance? Can I stand again.

Is there anything to grab hold of? A tree not being torn from the ground by the very earthquake that caused the landslide, that caused the instability. Anything stationary, rooted. As long as the land does not open up. As long as the world stays together just enough to not be devoured by the schism.

When the shifting subsides, all will be well. When the breaking calms and all is normal. Is it safe to say that all natural disasters shall end. Perhaps. But not that all will be survived.

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