by Jim Wisneski
The freedom of it all is why I’m up here.
Their voices echo around me, but all I can see is its open wings. It’s flying. They can’t stop it from flying away – and they won’t stop me either.
Its dark silhouette dances across the sky as my fingertips shake and my heart races.
I promised myself not to look down but I can’t help it. I need to see where I’m going. Just in case their voices are right. . . and I cannot fly.
I open my arms and although I have no wings, I already feel free.
They're yelling for me to stop and to come down, but inside I know they’re happy for me.
The freedom of it all is why I’m here. And the freedom gives me enough strength to step forward.
I breathe, step again, and with the wind rushing past my body, I am now free.
(Jim writes short stories, novellas, and novels. Follow him and all his projects on Writers n’ Writers – www.writersnwriters.blogspot.com)