Photo Source via the VisDare Challenge
Tess feels the wind as it runs through her hair, fluttering in the breeze; head bent back, unthinking, unheeding. It is the closest she comes to flying, whilst grounded. Pedals moving of their own volition, round and round. She pulls her feet above the handle bar, rests them in place. In that moment, she forgets that the world spins around her, what has been and gone; what is lost, never to return. For a split second she is free; possibility endless, racing towards what is or may yet be. In the sensation that surrounds her, she flies. The ‘plane by the fence is more grounded than she. Her arms spread wide; emulate the wings she simulates. Still, today, she soars on her own. Today, she flies. Tomorrow will take care of itself.
Another one written for this week's VisDare. Slightly shorter than a couple of recent entries.