The wind struck him first, full in the face then deep in the heart. Thrashing against him like a blind animal, rummaging through his clothes and pawing his person. It pulled his hair and filled his mouth with muted screams. The rush filled his ears and pressed on his mind the way blizzards shut doors. Oddly peaceful, he considered his place in the world as he hurtled towards it. An object in space welcomed by resistance. A shockingly elegant process, half a step and gravity did the rest. It struck him finally as holistic, then he struck the ground.
Nic Addenbrooke is a freelance writer, editor, content creator, radio broadcaster, part-time poet and sometimes artist. Nic has been coming to terms with existence for years. He currently lives and works in Brisbane where he struggles to turn the cacophony of voices in his head into things of substance. It doesn’t always work but occasionally produces a nice veneer of sanity.