FLUX

⬅️ Previous chapterApril 2009Grace Evans takes one step, another step, step, step, lift, the ground drops away and she becomes a creature of the air. She tucks her feet into the glider harness and tips horizontal to be rewarded by the joy of weightlessness. Her bones feel hollow and light as a bird’s.Though gravity seduces her glider earthward, she rides the wind off the hill and climbs a few hundred feet. Pockets of cooler air brush her face. On the ground, the temperature will climb near ninety

Late October 2009Dr. Grace Evans yawns and stretches from the long drive. They’re flaring again. So loud it feels personal. A sulfurous, rotten stench hangs over the site. She can almost feel the air suffering. They say you’re invisible, she whispers. They say you’re intangible, odorless, colorless. That you’re out there. Would they act differently if they understood that you’re inside them? In lungs and cells, yes. But also in thoughts. In imaginations. And assumptions.The quiet time at Warbird of