19 seconds
My feet hit the air. Not the street you ass. Not the street. My feet hit the air and my head laid looking at the ceiling with the dusty fan that had yet to be cleaned since I had moved in a year to the day. A year to the day? How did I know that? My feet hit the air like bricks being tossed out of windows. They don't exist after they hit the ground but mid air they have so many possibilities. They can shatter, destroy, maim, damage, and even kill. "Just" by Radiohead comes on my earphones and all I want to do is not walk and not smell. All I want to do is fly like a brick. A few seconds of awe while you wait to see what it will destroy; the object it hits or itself.
