”fly”
Her soft voice hushed.
“How can I? My wings are burning; my heart a flame!”
I cried out.
“Because you have always flown. What would you be without the sky between your fingers and adventure on your tongue?”
Her motherly advice guided.
“But I’ve been betrayed. The shed on fire. Another friend reflected in your eyes.”
“I would never replace you,” she assured me, “you’re mistaken, forgive, forget the shed, your wings are not burning. The sky is free and you too are free with it.”
“But Icarus flew before he fell.”
I whimpered.
And then I plummeted to the humanly Earth.
About the Creator
Sylvia Rogers
I’m a writer who enjoys sharing my opinions about research, media, and travel. I love getting feedback on my writing, so leave a comment if you want.
Check out my work on Medium https://medium.com/@sylviarogers260/about
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Comments (2)
this really touched me, it’s reminded me of my dead aunt.
This reminds me of my dead grandma! Thanks for the great work