She Fell From the Sky

The beach was overflowing with people, especially so for a fall day. The weather was unseasonably warm. Families swarmed over available spots of sandy real estate. Teenagers laid in beach chairs sunning under a partly cloudy sky.

One of the clouds in that lonely troposphere broke apart in the middle and something small fell from the formed hole. It flew down like a meteor, growing larger and larger by the second. Someone yelled and pointed skyward and then the whole beach full of people turned to look. They could make out clothing flapping frantically in the wind as the object came crashing down. A collective thought came into their minds: it was a human being.

The free fall last no more than thirty seconds. The body splashed climatically into the ocean about half a mile from shore, making a large splash that sent white foamy sea water several feet into the air.

The crowd gathered at the shore line. Some gasped. 911 calls were made.

When the ambulances came, the EMS workers parted the onlookers and the lifeguards prepared jet skis to move out. The crowd chatted noisily as people do when they are witnesses to extraordinary events. Calls and texts were made to friends with common questions. Who was the person? Was he or she dead? Surely. Where did the person come from? Who would fall out of the sky?

But then everything stopped. The EMS workers stopped walking. The jet skis were shut off. Beach-goers stopped talking. Silence.

From within the throng, an anonymous voiced echoed, "Oh, my God."

A woman, no older than thirty, had emerged from the water. She slowly walked towards the beach, water slapping at her legs. She had piercing green eyes and an expressionless face. She had no injuries that they could see, no markings. Shredded clothes hung from her lithe body, no doubt torn by wind forces and the impact on the water.

When she got to the beach's edge, she was suddenly overcome by exertion. Her step faltered and she fell over, fainted.