This is a humorous short story that I wrote a few months ago. I feel that it gives readers a good picture of who I am as a writer, humorous, a little dark, but always sincere.
On Herzilia and Falling
Tzachi knew he could fly. Really truly knew he could fly. Tzachi knew that his father was an angel, and that angels could fly, so why couldn’t Tzachi too. Everyday Tzachi went up to the roof of his apartment building in Herzilia (Back then Herzilia was an empty, sandy shithole. Now its a crowded, sandy, shithole.) He would look across the rooftops and could see the beach from there, a long blue line at the end of the world. Tzachi longed to fly beyond that infinite blue barrier. He wanted to fly above New York, Paris, and Hong Kong, also Boston. Tzachi had a weird thing with Boston. Nonetheless skylines he had only seen on television. Tzachi could not take the leap. Even though he knew he could fly he was still afraid of falling. He did not like roller coasters or ladders even though he knew he could fly if he fell.
One day Tzachi almost did it. After school he put his bag down in his room and climbed six stories of stairs, from the fifth floor to the roof. He then took a running start, running to the edge about to hop on the lip… and then he chickened out. Every day he went up, never jumping, feeling like the stupidest half angel there ever was. And then one day, he did it, he jumped… and then he fell. Tzachi knew he could fly, gravity was yet to be informed.