Descent

High above the dusty and deserted plain, a black speck whistled towards earth. It was a man holding a tire, plummeting without parachute. Tears streamed upwards from his eyes, but his sun-etched face was calm. Every one of his thick gray eyebrow hairs stood on end, and his sandstone hands gripped the tire. Taking a look below him, he suddenly sent a yodel rippling across the valley. Several ravens flapped up curiously. He nodded at them; they seemed to frown back.
He hit the ground while blinking, and only the tire was left to bounce back, high into the air.