For Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge #102, where we write about this photo from Marius Venter at Pixels.com. Okay, there is some license here, because that guy appears to be sitting entirely deliberately, but what if…
“Holy shit”, he thought, “how am I still alive?” He had come to rest just six inches from the edge. Below him was a sheer, 500ft drop. How lucky was that?
The last thing he remembered, he had gone for an afternoon climbing with his friend. They were both experienced mountaineers, and resolve to scale the face that they had scaled many times before.
They knew the rock face so well that they had been climbing without ropes. It was a beautiful afternoon and the two were climbing close to home in just shorts – they should be up and down again in a few hours, so there was no reason to assume that they would experience anything but lovely weather.
They were about ¾ up, with Sylvain leading. As Phillipe clambered after him, the rock had given way. There was nothing he could do, it had simply given way. Fortunately, this drop was not sheer, but by the time he reached the botton, his momentum sent him sprawling towards the edge. Below that, the drop *was* sheer.
“Are you okay?” He heard Sylvain’s voice from some way above. His shoulder hurt like crazy – he must have pranged it on the way down, But he was alive. He started to assess the damage.
Then he felt a slight movement in the ledge beneath him, and watched as a fissure under his butt widened.