Disclaimer: The Sentinel and its characters are the property of Pet Fly, Paramount, and The SciFi Channel.
Category: Drabble
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Spoilers: None
Carole
Desperately trying to avoid the dizzying sight of the ground more than thirty feet below my dangling feet, I kept my eyes squeezed shut. Hoping, praying, for rescue before it was too late, I fought to hold on, but when one hand slipped, the other followed, and my toes scrabbled in vain for purchase on the smooth cement wall. My fragile grasp lost, I began the fatal downward plunge, screaming, "Jim!" in terror.
Suddenly, a firm grip around my wrist promised safety and security, and a reassuring voice broke through my panic and fear. "Don't worry, Chief. I've got you."
Completely focused on the fingertips desperately clutching the top of the cement wall, I raced toward him with every ounce of strength I had, hoping, praying, that I would reach him before it was too late. Suddenly, one of his hands slipped, followed by the other, and I screamed, "No!" in anguish as he called out my name and began the plunge toward the ground.
Frantically dropping to my stomach, I lunged over the edge just in time, and grabbed his wrist. Breathing a heart-felt sigh of relief, I tightened my grip in reassurance. "Don't worry, Chief. I've got you."
~end~
May 2003