WORLDS COLLIDE - THE SACRIFICE
Half the bowl pivoted in his direction.
“Right,” Jake said to the weather, to the city, to the part of himself that had always known this day would come. “We do it your way.”
He ran.
He ran along a gutter that had forgotten what to do with water, over a skylight that flinched, across a sagging clothesline where someone’s shirts learned about storms. Behind him, claws took purchase where human feet shouldn’t. Ahead, a narrow span waited over an alley that didn’t care if you missed.
Bab Populer