Author’s note: Welcome again to another Friday Fictioneers. Things have been pretty busy for me over the last week or so, but I have some time to do what needs to be done. Enjoy today’s offering!
by Miles H. Rost
“So, you really think she’s here?” Mark Driscoll asked his buddy, Clark Jackson.
“I know she’s here. I tracked her from the airport.”
The men looked at the building.
“And her front door is up there?”
“Well, how do I get up there?”
“Don’t you remember how she got to our town in the first place?”
“Invisible jet, you said, right?”
“Yeah. So if she has an invisible jet, and she lives in that building, it means she must have invisible stairs.”
Mark looked at him, head askew.
“The last time this happened, I fell into a sinkhole. No.”
Mark turned and walked away.