He must have seen me a mile away, free falling. Now I’m on the ground, lines tangled in the oak above, money scattering like feathers. And a fractured patella.

Yellow talons, big as a fist, coming closer. Eagles are good luck, no?

No.

Stern, cocky countenance, punishing eyes.

Divine judgement.

Steve Saulsbury lives on Maryland’s Eastern Shore. A writer of flash fiction, his work has appeared in many online journals and several printed collections. Most
recently, his piece, “The Field,” was included in the Halloween anthology Flash of the Dead.