I was born falling from a great height. We all were. Mom. Dad. Sister. The beds, my toy chest, kitchen table, rugs. The wind roaring in my ears, whipping hair, drying my eyes especially if I chose to look down. You adjust. I could see neighbors falling, their falling rooms. I made falling friends. We went to falling school and had falling birthday parties.
Once there was a crash. Our old couch was gone, fragments flying upward. Dad said it was probably a branch sticking out from the cliff near us but it was too blurry to say for sure. He would die this way too not a year later. Everything I’ve ever loved is or was falling.
Now I have a daughter who asks, “Why are we falling?” I have to explain what a miracle it is. All the wonderful people and things and adventures falling with us. Falling is the best part. One day you will stop falling but do not worry the ground is very, very far away.
Casper Kelly is a writer and director of TV and movies. His work has appeared in MonkeyBicycle, Necessary Fiction, and The Cellar Door. His book, More Stories about Spaceships and Cancer, was published by Fried Society Press.