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Writing Resources from Fifteen Minutes of Fiction

The following is a piece of writing submitted by KelseyTheQuiet on November 4, 2012


We are a society based around gravity. It holds us here. It keeps us from drifting away and floating. Gravity isn’t applied to some things, it’s applied to everything. That’s why floaters, like me, are such outcasts. We float above gravity, watching from afar as everyone argues with one another. People see me float and think:
“What fools, those who drift away. They are uncertain of where they stand. They should be mocked and rejected.” It is not that I am unsure; it is that I am not welcomed. I am not stable on ground, and I never will be. Silver platters handed me every foot, every arm. Because of this, I do not know how to walk now. The walkers, they confuse me as would a foreign language. They know where they stand, but they are constantly moving; constantly changing their position. How is it then that they mock me, when they themselves are unsure? Why can they criticize my choice not to decide, when they are always shifting and changing themselves? Just because I do not know myself does not mean I need a name. Names define. They provoke and dissatisfy. They force us to be people that we are not. Looking back at the beginning, the end is clear now and it frightens me. I know, soon, that I will fall. Gravity will catch up to me and clutch me in its unforgiving grasp. It will choke me, destroy me and, inevitable, kill me.

And I will be forced to choose a side.

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