by Bob Jacobs
I came across a man clinging to a tree by the side of the road - eyes shut, arms wrapped around the trunk, body pressed against the bark - and asked him what the matter was. "Gravity," he gasped, "it's stopping, can't you feel it?" I placed my arm gently around his shoulders and reassured him that gravity is constant so there was nothing to fear, until, comforted, he thanked me, shook my hand and set off down the road. That's when gravity stopped. I clung to the tree and watched him float away screaming. "I'm sorry," I whispered, and in a funny way I almost meant it.
6S
Bob Jacobs, author of My Side of the Bed, lives in the south-east of England with his wife and kids and Sony Vaio. In his spare time he likes to lie motionless on his back, whistling and staring at clouds.