When We Loved Giants
I beg you, let me tell you about my daughter. My brilliant daughter will be one of the four people who survive their airplane crashing into a giant. Or, more accurately, a giant swiping their airplane out of the sky. Perhaps it meant to catch, or caress. My daughter will never know. Usually airlines predict giants ahead of time, from sightings or seismic activity, but this one was not easily seen and quick as a whip, like my daughter.
Content warnings 1
death
Quasar links out; the story lives on Lightspeed, where the author gets the click.