Jacob walked forward, eyes on his black leather shoes until another pair of shoes came into sight. He adjusted his body slightly so that his shoes were facing those in front of him, then his eyes fixed on them. The shoes before him were rounder, likely belonging to someone with larger feet, ergo, larger proportions. They were nice shoes, as were most of the shoes he saw. He gave them a good study, as he assumed the one opposite him was doing as well. Brown, not dark but not light. Leather, smooth but not without several creases. Laced, somewhat tightly.
“Hello!” Jacob initiated the conversation, keeping his eyes on the feet.
“Hello!” the man replied.
“What is your business?” Jacob asked while maintaining his focus on the man’s feet. “I myself am in the business of shoe-making, although I mostly do repair work. You have a nice pair, if I may say so.”
“You may!” the voice replied. It was a soft sort of burly, the kind that came from older, larger, yet kind men. He moved his shoes about, revealing to me their features. “I am a clock-worker,” he then said, and held out a small stopwatch. “Here, survey my handiwork!”
Jacob took the watch and looked it over. It certainly seemed well-crafted, although Jacob himself knew very little of the inner workings of clocks. It had a very pleasing ticking sound, and Jacob fancied that he should like to have a stopwatch such as this. He turned it over, the soft golden surface catching on the light that shone from above.
“Is this true gold?” he asked suddenly.
“Indeed,” he replied proudly. “I only work with the finest of materials, and this is the most fulfilling amount of gold you will find for an object of such weight.”
Jacob did not doubt him, but he knew he could afford no such item. Nor did he need one, he already had a watch. He handed it back.
“May I have your card?” he asked. While he asked, he pulled from his suit coat his own card. The man replied by handing his card over. Jacob caught sight of the man’s hand as it entered his view and stayed for a moment while he moved to take the card. It was certainly a large hand, indeed, the man’s thumb seemed nearly as thick as his card. It betrayed the age Jacob had suspected and was also lacking in hair.
“It is a pleasure to have met you, Jacob Pit,” the man said. After glancing at the man’s card, Jacob responded.
“Likewise, Mr. Dill.”
Thus, after they both saw that neither was interested in their business, the conversation was ended and the two parted ways, Jacob waiting to see which direction Mr. Dill’s feet would be moving. The man moved to Jacob’s left, therefore he moved to the right.
It was quite some time before any more feet came into view, although Jacob could hear several passing. When he did come upon another pair of feet, he found them to be much different than the previous pair. They were smaller and thinner, not so small that he would immediately assume them to be a child’s but not large enough to assume that it was not a child either. The shoes were a sort of sneaker, although they were much more decorative than any sneaker he had ever made. Or seen, for that matter. They had no laces, and were woven together and seemed to attach themselves to the lower leg. He noticed several strange aspects of the shoes that were certainly not the way shoes ought to be made, and wondered where this person might have acquired them. They looked most uncomfortable, but it would be a horrible thing to judge the person based on their shoe choice, so Jacob began as he had with Mr. Dill.
“Hello!” he said politely. The occupant of the extraordinary sneakers did not respond immediately, and Jacob thought he heard a scoff.
“Nice kicks,” the person said in a mocking tone. Jacob was shocked at the person’s tone and boldness but did not retaliate. Instead, he attempted to continue in politeness.
“My name is Jacob Pit, what might yours be?”
“None of your business,” the person answered. Jacob had met rude people before, but never had one so quickly made their lack of civility known.
“Well, none-of-your-business, I happen to be a shoemaker. I must say, yours are quite intriguing! Tell me, where did you acquire them?”
There was a loud gasp, followed by stark laughter from the person.
“You’ve never seen these?” the person held their feet forward and upward so that Jacob might get a much closer look. “And you’re a shoemaker?”
“Why yes, I—”
“With shoes like yours, I guess it makes sense,” the person said as they took on a confident tone. Jacob could not help but smile as he watched the pompous shoes. He understood the wearer much better now and knew he needn’t suffer any humiliation from them. This person was the sort whose shoes were popular, but very poorly made. They were much more for eye-catching than for walking, and Jacob knew that within a much shorter time than the wearer expected, they would retire.
“Good day to you,” Jacob said shortly. He didn’t believe it worth it to spend any longer talking to the person, as they would obviously not be interested in any shoes he made, let alone a stimulating conversation. So he left the exquisite sneakers, continuing on with his eyes at his feet.
It began to grow incredibly hot, and quite bright. Jacob sighed as he felt the strength of that glowing ball they called the sun strike his bent neck in full force. It was certainly the most wretched of weatherly aspects. In rain, at least one could prop up an umbrella. But with the sun, its effects seemed to come from everywhere, rendering an umbrella useless. He removed a handkerchief from his suit coat and wiped the sweat from his neck, hoping that a canopy of clouds would soon overcome the sun.
He then met another pair of shoes, these elegant, red, gem-studded open-toed heels. He had never made these sorts of shoes before, and they fascinated him. He wondered at the strength of the heel, as they were thin and yet were able to support a large portion of the wearer. Although, Jacob had also never wanted to make these sorts of shoes as he found the type he currently made much more simple and enjoyable.
“Hello,” he said.
“Hello,” the woman opposite him answered. She had very carefully decorated toenails, and Jacob thought they matched very well with the heels.
“My name is Jacob Pit, I am a shoemaker.”
“Diana Neon, actress.”
“Fascinating,” Jacob said, musing at the sorts of feet actresses must be required to have in order to get noticed. “What sorts of films are you in?” he asked.
“Many,” she answered with a sigh. Jacob imagined that it must have been tiresome to be an actress who always looked down. “Although I do mostly action.” He further pondered that it must be difficult to perform a stunt or action scene whilst looking down.
“I cannot say that I have ever met an actress,” Jacob said as he removed his card. “Would you sign the back of my card?”
She sighed, Jacob realized she must get these sorts of requests whenever she met someone, and felt guilty for simply being another simpleton she had met. But, he waited for her to procure a pen and commit to paper a very sloppy signature.
There was not much conversation to be had afterward, for she did not seem interested in discussing much apart from her films, and Jacob was looking for shoe business. Thus, Jacob said, “it was nice to meet you Diana,” and waited politely for her to leave.
“Ciao,” she said with an airy sigh, and then she left to the right of Jacob. He continued straight after she had gone, his eyes on the ground but his ears listening more carefully for the sorts of footsteps he heard. If one listened closely, they could come to know the sorts of shoes that were most likely to seek their business. For Jacob, this meant shoes that were either heavily worn and made differing and strange sounds, or those that sounded professional. Professional business people were always looking for new shoes.
It was the next person that brought Jacob to believe he had finally found a customer.
He was walking as always: eyes to the ground, when he heard a strange noise up ahead. Rather than the usual clacking or plodding of shoes, it was a sort of slapping. It was much quicker than the usual sounds of an approaching potential customer as well, and as the sound grew louder Jacob wondered whether the person was running. He imagined trying to run with one’s eyes on the floor and realized it was a silly conclusion, but could not immediately dissuade his senses.
Suddenly, so sudden he stumbled backward a little, two feet entered his line of sight. They appeared almost instantly and with such a halt that Jacob was convinced the person had been running.
“Goodness gracious!” he exclaimed, regaining his composure but still quite excited. “You nearly ran me over!”
“Sorry!” the voice said quickly. It sounded like a girl but could have been a young boy as well, Jacob was not sure. The feet were what captured his interest. Where there should have been shoes of any kind sat two pale and utterly naked feet. Naturally, there were small specks of dirt on them, and the toenails bore the cracks wear.
“I say,” Jacob began, realizing that his services might finally be required. “You seem to be needing a pair of shoes!”
“No,” the person answered.
“But you’ve lost yours!” Jacob protested, pointing toward the person’s feet as if they had not noticed. “You cannot very well walk about without any shoes!”
“And why can’t I?” the person asked.
“Because you’ll hurt your feet!” Jacob took a closer look at the person’s feet and added, “even now it seems you’ve a small bruise on your big toe.”
“I don’t need shoes,” the person concluded. Jacob was disappointed by the person’s firmness on the subject, and carefully considered how to proceed. He decided to pull out his card and offer it.
“If you ever do need shoes, please call me.”
“Jacob Pit,” the person read. The person then dropped the card and stretched out their hand. “My name is Melissa Land.”
Jacob shook her hand. He’d been expecting a business card, but this would do.
“What do you do, Melissa?” he then asked.
“At the moment, I’m trying to escape this place,” she answered.
“Escape?” Jacob asked, watching as her toes moved anxiously. “What do you mean?”
“Leave, get away, you know: escape,” was her response, and an impatient one at that.
“What might you be escaping?”
“This big disc we’re all spinning about on, of course!” she answered.
“I am afraid I do not understand in the slightest,” Jacob confessed. He was ready to move on from Melissa, but she continued.
“Of course you don’t! All you and everyone else does is look down at your feet!”
“Why should we look anywhere else?” Jacob asked with a chuckle. “When the sun is out, we’d burn our eyes. When it rains, we’d get wet. When it’s dark, there’s nothing to see.” He stuck his hands in his pocket triumphantly. “It is quite pointless to look up.”
“And what of my face?”
“Your face?” Jacob asked.
“You keep your eyes trained on the most uninteresting part of a person. How can you remember who you’ve met?”
“Voice, shoes, business cards,” I replied, and then quickly added, “do you mean to tell me that you are looking at my face?” He suddenly became somewhat nervous. Jacob had never thought that anyone would be looking anywhere except his feet. This new consideration made him feel strange, as if he was naked.
“You have nice eyes,” she said. “Although they are always down and I can’t see them completely.”
“Stop,” Jacob quickly said. He didn’t like the idea of her studying him so intently.
“Your hair is somewhat messy, but I suppose that makes sense, given where your eyes are.”
“I should be going,” Jacob said as he began to turn. The sound of her bare feet followed. It was a somewhat terrifying realization that, if she was looking up, she could follow him as long as she liked and he could do nothing about it.
“Look up, Jacob,” she said, her voice close beside him.
“No thank you,” he replied politely.
“If you don’t, you’re going to die.” This made Jacob stop and reconsider. He realized that if she was looking up, she could very easily dispatch him before he would even realize she was going to. He froze and slowly turned toward the voice until he saw the pale feet again.
“Are you threatening to kill me?” he answered as calmly as possible.
“No,” she scoffed. “Why would I kill you?”
“Well, you said—”
She interrupted with a large sigh.
“Maybe you’ll be different. Come, you’re close enough for me to show you,” she said as she took hold of Jacob’s arm. He could see her hand for a moment before it pulled his arm out of his sight. She had a simple hand, no decorations or coloring, only the foreign warmth of human touch. Jacob rarely shook hands with anyone, passing a card was enough to familiarize one with another. It felt strange to have someone take his arm, even stranger to have that person lead him somewhere. As far as he knew, everyone simply walked straight until they found a person to discuss their business with, there were no destinations as far as Jacob knew. He found himself intrigued by Melissa, but also cautious.
“Where are we going?” Jacob asked after they’d been walking for some time. Melissa moved quickly, much quicker than Jacob usually walked. He feared that he might fall if he moved too quickly. An obstacle could appear and he would have no time to avoid it. But, Melissa guided him safely, and he never met an obstacle worthy of tripping over.
“We’re almost there,” she said, and they began to slow their pace.
“Where is there?” Jacob asked.
“The edge,” she replied, and they slowed to a rate much less even than Jacob usually walked. “Careful,” she added.
Jacob had been attempting to be careful the entire time and thought he was doing well considering how little she had told him.
“Alright, take my hand,” she said as she released his arm. Jacob did so, but not without the feeling that something horrible was about to happen. “Now, slowly walk forward, and stop when I tell you to.”
“What’s—”
“Just do it,” she demanded.
Jacob complied, although he was very hesitant to. He took several steps, and seeing that he was not dead, continued.
“Stop!” Melissa said after he’d taken several more. “Do you see it?”
“See what?” Jacob asked. “All I see are my shoes and the gray floor.”
Suddenly, and in a way that sent Jacob’s heart beating at an astronomic rate, Melissa gave Jacob a slight nudge. He moved to catch himself with his foot, but it seemed to miss the ground and descend despite his sight of the floor below. His hands, including the one Melissa held, waved frantically. He was sure he would die, but she tugged at his arm and wrenched him away from the edge.
“Now do you see it?” she asked eagerly.
“I see that you’ve nearly killed me!” Jacob shouted, his eyes firmly at his feet and vowing never to move. “Although, I do not understand how,” he admitted with some curiosity once he’d calmed down.
“You almost fell,” she explained.
“Well yes,” he replied shortly, “but from what? And into what?”
“As I said earlier, we’re on a giant disc. Walking in a straight line with your eyes on the ground, you’re bound to fall off at some point.”
“But why didn’t I see the edge?” Jacob argued, and then repeated in frustration, “if we’re on a disc why couldn’t I see the edge?”
“It’s an optical illusion,” she answered. “The floor beneath the disc is the same color as the floor we’re standing on. Looking from the top down, there’s no difference.”
“Then how did you see it?” Jacob asked.
“By looking up,” she answered, with a bit of victory in her voice. “The illusion fades when it loses its angle, especially when you account for the spinning.”
“Spinning?” Jacob had not caught this when he had looked down and was still somewhat hesitant to trust her every word.
“Yes, we are gradually spinning as I said before. It’s slow enough that you do not feel it; only when you look up can you realize it. Because you’re spinning too, you don’t notice the floor spinning when you look down at the ground.”
Jacob remained with his eyes on the ground. He was not quite convinced yet that he should raise his eyes. After all, the sun’s bright violence would likely damage them within several seconds. Therefore, he sat down, his eyes on his lap.
“What, you’re just going to sit there now?” Melissa scoffed.
“I need to think,” Jacob answered angrily. He was truly baffled as to how he might continue walking without eventually reaching an edge he could not see.
“Just look up,” she said.
“No,” Jacob quickly replied. “If it is as you say, and people simply walk straight, then I shall be run into at some point.”
“So what?” she retorted, her voice full of exasperation.
“Pardon?”
She sighed.
“What’s that going to do for you? The people you meet are going to be just as blind as you.”
“But I can conduct business with them,” Jacob replied. “I’m a shoemaker you see,”
“You told me already,” she said as she sat in front of him. He could tell because her voice had grown closer, as opposed to when she’d been standing over him. “Look, there’s no point in any business you do if you never look up.”
“You think you’re so smart, don’t you?” Jacob suddenly commented. He found her condemnation growing mildly annoying and hoped she would leave. Shoe-making was the one certainty he had left, and he was not about to let her take that from him as well. “I will do what I think is best.”
“That’s for certain,” she quipped. She then became more serious. “Why are you so afraid of looking up?”
“The sunlight, the rain,” he replied angrily. “I want my eyes to be neither burned nor drenched!”
“No one said you have to look directly up,” she said.
“No one said I have to look up at all!” he shouted back. “Now leave me be, Ms. Land, you’ve thoroughly disrupted my day!”
There was a brief silence in which Jacob heard her rise.
“What are you going to do about the edge?” she asked. “One day you’re going to meet it again.”
“I’ll be careful,” Jacob replied shortly. Melissa did not respond, and he heard the soft slapping of her bare feet against the gray surface as she left.
He remained sitting long after she’d gone. He was afraid to move, remembering the experience he’d felt when Melissa had guided him to step off the edge. It was a gut turning sensation, one that had sent great shocks through his body, stemming from his heart. Even thinking about it gave him chills.
A long time passed, according to Jacob’s watch, and he had not moved. When it rained he put up his umbrella, and when the sun beat down on him he wiped the sweat from his neck with a handkerchief. What’s worse, his legs were growing cramped and his buttocks were sore from sitting so long on the hard ground. Yet he could not force himself to rise. The thought of the edge seemed to lurk about every compulsion to do so.
He suddenly wished that Melissa was here. He wondered if she would have allowed him to follow her, surely then he wouldn’t wander off an edge as she had promised he eventually would. He concluded that she would have likely tried to force him to look up instead. He mused at whether or not she had truly been looking up. It was possible that she was simply making it up, and was bold and dumb enough to run whilst looking down. Yet she bore such confidence as well, such that he almost could not doubt her. On top of that, she’d known exactly where the edge was.
He sighed. She was gone, and he couldn’t get her back. The chances of running into someone again was very slim, even if the other person was looking up.
As he sat, he began to wonder at what would happen if he was to look up. He’d always been told that the sun was powerful enough to burn and blind the eye, so he considered that it would be foolish to look up when the sun was shining, this being most of the time. He further mused that raindrops hitting the naked eye would likely be painful, and put aside the idea of looking up during the rain.
However, he came upon the idea that night posed very few threats, if it was not raining of course. The only possible threat he could think of was the moon, but it had always been described as soft and much gentler than the sun. He thought on this a great deal, becoming more and more anxious as his shadow began to stretch.
When night came, he decided he had no other choice but to try it. He had much to lose if he could not see the edge, and little to lose if he looked up during the blackness of night.
When the time felt right, when all was dark, he slowly began to lift his head. He stopped immediately, feeling intense pain at the base of his neck. He clasped it, the pain echoing along his spine. He was not sure of why this pain was here, but considered that it felt much like when an arm is slept on wrong, and in the morning feels very tight and stiff. Thus his neck was hesitant and resisted any motion. But Jacob pushed it a little further, slowly and gently until he was staring upward.
What he saw confused, stunned, and bewildered him. A bent sliver of light: the moon, glowing in pale celestial beauty. Surrounding it were small dots, twinkling and glistening brighter than the gems on Diana Neon’s shoes. They were like an expansive map, charting out some destination only he and Melissa knew. Jacob stared it for a long time, until his neck began to grow sore. Then he lay down and watched the stars until he fell asleep.
In the morning, a new sensation spiraled him into chaotic terror. He covered his eyes as the light of the sun struck them with full strength. Acting quickly, he turned over and crouched, face toward the ground. He was breathing heavily, hoping and praying that he was not blinded. He slowly lifted his head from the ground but still kept it downward, and removed his hands.
He saw the gray floor as clearly as before, although he was a bit groggy. He blinked several times and rubbed his eyes, just to be sure he could still see. When he convinced himself all was well, he rose, eyes still on the floor, and dusted himself off.
“I shall continue on, being mindful of the edge,” he told himself shakily. He then proceeded to take cautious steps, placing one foot in front of him lightly before stepping. It was a very slow method of travel, and he felt much a fool for teetering about as he was. But he was soon grateful when his cautionary forward step struck nothing but air. He immediately fell back until he was on all fours. He was breathing hard, and did not want to move for a long time. How he had returned to the edge was beyond him, and he cursed his luck.
When he did move, it was on all fours, crawling toward the spot where his foot had touched the air. He swept one hand in front of him, searching for the hidden edge. When he found it he gasped and clutched it tightly. It was an abrupt edge, a rigid face, and did not feel curved. He gripped it with both hands and scooted himself closer. Peering over it, he saw that there seemed very little difference between the floor and what lay below. He observed, however, that his hands could reach past the edge toward the floor below and yet touch nothing.
He concluded that Melissa had been correct regarding this, that there was a sort of optical illusion as well as an edge everyone was gradually making their way toward. He moved away from the edge, uncertain of what to do.
He then realized that he was currently in the safest mode of travel. On all fours he could traverse the world, or disc, sweeping one hand across the floor ahead to ensure that he would not teeter off an edge into the abyss below. He traveled in this way for quite some time, his eyes still down on the floor for he dared look nowhere else for fear of missing the edge. It was a slow method, but he considered it worth it in the long run.
Gradually, his hands grew sore, and his back began to plead with him to rest. He had never felt these sorts of pains arise, at least, not so quickly. It was true that he occasionally wearied from walking, but never before had he felt so trapped because of his pain. For he knew that crawling was the safest locomotion method, but he knew he could not carry on forever in this way. Another of Melissa’s spiteful statements returned to him. He recalled her asking what the point was for him to conduct business with the others. It seemed a strange question, as he was a shoemaker, and he knew the point was to make shoes for people. Yet, there was another side to her argument that he was beginning to understand. He considered how long he had been making and selling shoes, how long he had been walking on what Melissa had explained was a disc.
“And what for?” he asked himself. He first argued that it was so that he could earn money, therefore a living. But he quickly was able to put aside that theory, for he came to the odd realization that he didn’t need the money all that much. He only ever walked, and simply slept on the floor. Therefore, he needed no house. As far as food went, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten, or rather, the last time he’d needed to eat. He questioned what he did use the money on, and remembered that he occasionally used it on the goods and services others provided, the same as others paid him to make or repair a shoe.
“How strange,” he mused, and realized that Melissa was much more correct than he’d like to admit. He considered that perhaps everyone was simply milling about on a large disc, bumping occasionally into one another until they fell off the edge and were forgotten. It seemed a very depressing and bizarre reality, and Jacob hoped it was all a sort of dream.
“Hello?” a voice suddenly said, shocking Jacob from his thoughts. “I say, are you alright?”
“Me?” Jacob asked, quickly feeling the ground in front of him. His hands touched on two durable lumps attached to stout poles. He quickly realized that they were shoes, and was most embarrassed that he had been seen crawling about.
“Yes, you!” the voice replied. Jacob judged it to be a man, for it was very deep and rough. “You must have tripped!”
“Yes!” Jacob laughed, and quickly pulled himself up. “Indeed I have tripped!”
“You’re alright though?” The man asked, “no broken bones?”
“Not a one,” Jacob replied.
“Shame,” the man muttered. Realizing how bad this sounded, he quickly added, “I am a doctor, you see! I meant not that I wished you had broken bones,” Jacob could feel him smiling from embarrassment, and calmed the man.
“Not to worry,” Jacob said. “I understand perfectly. I am a shoemaker, and I’ve been having difficulty finding someone in need of shoes as well,” Jacob explained.
“It’s a tough world,” the doctor sighed. “Not enough business to go round.”
“Indeed,” Jacob paused, a thought connected to Melissa’s claims stirring. Without knowing it, the doctor added to this thought, which was quickly developing into a fear.
“Why, back in my day, it seemed that I could not get enough time to treat all my patients!” The doctor clicked his tongue. “Back then people were bustling about and eager to move. Now it seems that everyone is more spread out.”
“It does,” Jacob said. He considered that the doctor might have struck a keen observation had he Melissa’s knowledge. For if his observation was correct and it was becoming more and more difficult to come across a person, then it was only logical to assume that this was because the majority of the people who were on the disc had already walked off the edge. With fewer people to run in to, people were reaching the edge even quicker, thus the population was thinning by an unprecedented amount with each fall.
“Well, if you’ve no need for a doctor, I’d best be off to search for someone who does.” The doctor reached out his hand for Jacob to shake. Jacob realized instantly the gravity of his discussion with the man. For while Jacob did not know entirely what direction the edge was in, he knew that the doctor would reach it eventually if he was to keep his eyes down.
“Wait,” Jacob said quickly. The doctor’s feet did not move, and Jacob steeled himself for whatever embarrassment he might receive from the following conversation. “Have you by chance run into a woman who calls herself Melissa Land?”
“No,” the doctor answered confidently. “I haven’t seen a woman in several days.”
“I see,” Jacob sighed, and then continued. “Well, I felt that I should pass on to you something she cautioned me against.”
“Oh?”
“She told me, and showed to me, that we are on a disc, and that we’ll all walk off it eventually.”
“Is that so?” the doctor chuckled. “Now that is an interesting story idea.”
“She was quite adamant about it,” Jacob continued. “She said that in order to see the edge one must look up.”
“Look up?” the doctor exclaimed, quite surprised. “Why, I believe this Melissa means to do you harm! For looking at the sun will damage your eyes, most certainly so.”
“That is what I told her,” Jacob answered.
“Good,” the doctor tapped one of his feet. “So you didn’t look up then?”
“No,” Jacob said, and chose not to tell him of his view of the stars and moon.
“I suggest you pay no heed to this Melissa,” the doctor concluded. “Perhaps she needs a doctor.”
He then turned, pausing to give Jacob his card.
“Wait!” Jacob called out.
“Yes?” the doctor asked.
“Be careful,” Jacob answered.
“Of Melissa?”
“Yes,” Jacob sighed. But he added, “and any other surprises you might find.” He wanted to reveal to the doctor the truth but knew he would not believe unless he, as Jacob had, would see the edge. Jacob knew he had no way of showing the edge to him, as he knew not what direction it was in, and even then when he was close enough that he should show caution. And so Jacob listened as the sound of the doctor’s feet grew fainter and fainter. When he did not hear them at all, he tossed the business card aside and fell to his knees to continue his crawl.
Several days into his crawling, he heard a scream. It was the sort of scream that froze one’s blood and melted another’s bones. Jacob felt both effects and remained crouched on the floor. The scream lasted but a few seconds, and quickly began to fade as soon as it started, as if it were rapidly getting further and further away. Jacob understood immediately what was happening, and began to crawl toward the sound.
He knew it was far too late for the one who had screamed, they were long beyond anyone’s help. But he feared for any who might hear and follow as he was now, yet with no knowledge of the edge that had taken one more.
Jacob heard many feet moving toward the sound as he was, and felt that he had to hurry. Yet he knew that walking was much quicker, and that he was being beat to the edge.
Another shout issued, at which the other feet moved quicker.
“No!” Jacob shouted. “Stop walking!”
But another scream spiraled down into the abyss as more feet moved in the direction. Jacob heard another voice, and although he could not understand what it was saying he recognized that it belonged to Melissa. He was reminded of what she had bid him do: to look up. He saw that it was the only way to save these people, that they would all tumble off the edge if no one were to help Melissa stop them. Rising, and feeling his heartbeat quicken, Jacob began to lift his head.
His open eyes were launched into the sunlight, and its bright light startled and dazed him. Yet it was a beautiful experience, one that added to the stunned confusion his eyes were suffering. His eyes did not immediately dry up or burn as he had feared, instead, they adjusted to the large orb in the sky.
Looking toward the sounds of the continuing screams, he saw a mob of people, each dressed according to their trade, moving toward one point. That point sucked in any of the mob who reached it, each one falling to whatever ground waited below. Clock-makers, actresses, doctors, everyone walking with eyes cast down toward the same fate, that of becoming simple bumps on the ground miles below.
Along the horizon was an empty vastness, the great disc. All across it he saw nothing, and it seemed that the majority, if not all, of the population was here at this edge or drawing closer to it.
“Stop!” Jacob heard Melissa yell. He took a step back, feeling his head spin due to the brightness of the sun and the dizzying motion about him. His foot missed the floor, and he felt that horrible, familiar lurch rise in his stomach as he began to fall backward.
He reached out his arms and tucked himself forward, grabbing at anything he could reach. His fingers touched the edge, just barely, and his fall was ceased immediately and with harsh force. He hung for a moment, surprised that he had caught himself.
He then looked down and around him, seeing the dark underside of the disc. It stretched far and wide, and its shadow covered all beneath it. Jacob heard another scream, turned his head, and watched with horror as the people from the disc fell. They flung their arms wildly, reaching at air as they descended. They did not strike the ground as Jacob had feared they would, at least, when they did he could not see them because they had faded so far from his sight. He felt pain shoot through his fingers as he realized that he would soon lose his grip.
He pulled himself upward, slowly working until he was resting on his elbows, his lower three-quarters still dangling off the edge. He looked up, and the sight before him stopped his efforts.
He saw Melissa attempting to fight and convince the crowd all at once. Now that he could see her, he realized that she was rather plain, but beautiful as well. He wished he had looked up at her face before, when he was not about to die. He would have seen her eyes, full of vibrant fire and life, and hair of the most earthy brown, soft waves of it falling about her. Only he would have seen all of her features expressed in a happier, simpler moment. As she stopped fighting for a second, he realized how perfect she looked standing there in the sun. He only wished she wasn’t crying, for it made him realize that he might have been able to provide her comfort had he looked up in time.
Melissa did not see him when his strength gave out and he began to slip entirely from the sight of every living thing. With eyes cast down, he felt fear and a great rushing sensation about him as the light faded and the shape of the great disc dominated his sight. He closed his eyes, bringing his mind to remember Melissa.
Although his image of her was a comforting one, he realized with somber pity that she would soon be the only living thing, the last bump on the great spinning disc. She would be alone, the only clue to some message the once populated disc had carried.
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