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.
(132 words)
Comment
Another one written for this week's VisDare. Slightly shorter than a couple of recent entries.
No comments:
Post a Comment