188 words, PG
sometimes i look down and find my arms have turned into wings.
sometimes i look down and find my arms have turned into wings. bursting with excitement i start to run, hoping to fly. with a few steps my feet leave the ground and i look to the limitless sky, not caring where am i going, only that i can.
i am open, i am free, i am infinite. i know how to love without bounds and live without regret; i can only push myself higher. when i stop to take in the view, i soar.
i am glorious. i am more than theory, more than thought--i am ethereal.
my body suddenly jerks, and i can see a chain around my ankle running down to the earth. each link is a nightmare, a memory of failure and of taunting inevitability. the chain maxes out and i cannot fly any higher. when i look down i see arms, not wings, and i start to fall.
i fall and become closed off, invulnerable. i embody paradox as i become stationary and fall fast back to the earth.
and so i close my eyes and wait in darkness for the end.