Justin’s two companions on the ledge chat as if he isn’t there.
“See,” he says softly, “I am invisible.”
To his right, Raph asks, “What? Did he say something?”
On his left, Pen responds, “Think it was just a pigeon.”
Justin takes his hand off the ledge, his body weaving as he gestures,
“Me, me, me. Pick me. Just like school, never got heard then.”
“Definitely the wind,” Pen responds.
Justin takes both hands off, his body almost arcing off into space.
“Here I am,” he wails, “The one who works so hard. . .”
“Must be rush hour; I can faintly hear the street noise,” Raph comments.
Justin stands up, arms flaying in the air, “Listen. I love you, don’t walk away.”
“Geese migrating already” Pen notes. “My how time flies.”
Justin looks below at the ants and toy cars.
“Always, always the same!” he shouts, stepping off.
His companions look down at Justin’s plunging body.
“Should we catch him mid-flight?” Raph asks
“Or wait for the splatter,” Pen offered.
Raph is short for Raphael, an archangel; Pen is short for Penemue, one of the fallen angels. Traditionally, the angel sits on your right shoulder, the devil on your left.
Inspired by mlmm’s photo challenge #386
Photo credit Caters