Lena
hope is the thing with feathers
that perches in the soul
that perches in the soul
Of course, she breached from somewhere in her mind, stumbling through all the other intricacies. And she held fast at his warning, fingers finding scales and ridges, preparing herself for the inevitable –
But the Caretaker had no reference point for this sort of adventure. She'd never flown. She'd had no wings to stretch. Perhaps when they’d been small, and they could sled down icy proportions of stone with their families watching, with whoops and cheers and triumphant calls into market-squares.
Instead, there was only a drop.
Her stomach lurched and she gasped, body stilling immediately as everything else, her hair, her clothing, her scarf, whipped along her head at an alarming speed, and all she saw were the maneuvering waves and the back of a dragon’s cranium, the sea spray rising up to meet them as he suddenly skimmed rather than plunged.
It took a moment for her heart, her mind, to regain its composure, but in the end, between the rapid blinking and the sudden assault of visions, there’d been excitement, exhilaration, maybe, dare she even admit it…fun. Yes! she managed to squeak, fingers tightening over the bag as they rose towards the clouds. Could we do that again after?
But the Caretaker had no reference point for this sort of adventure. She'd never flown. She'd had no wings to stretch. Perhaps when they’d been small, and they could sled down icy proportions of stone with their families watching, with whoops and cheers and triumphant calls into market-squares.
Instead, there was only a drop.
Her stomach lurched and she gasped, body stilling immediately as everything else, her hair, her clothing, her scarf, whipped along her head at an alarming speed, and all she saw were the maneuvering waves and the back of a dragon’s cranium, the sea spray rising up to meet them as he suddenly skimmed rather than plunged.
It took a moment for her heart, her mind, to regain its composure, but in the end, between the rapid blinking and the sudden assault of visions, there’d been excitement, exhilaration, maybe, dare she even admit it…fun. Yes! she managed to squeak, fingers tightening over the bag as they rose towards the clouds. Could we do that again after?
and sings the tune without the words
and never stops at all
and never stops at all
