this is not me writing fictions in one sitting

Sunday, February 3, 2008

through the thin yarn that connects you

to the red diamond paper

you send your dreams flying.

you hold on tight and wish it would fly higher.

you whistle and wait for the wind

(because whistling brings in the wind, your playmates say)

while you keep on running

the grass and the weeds tickling your feet.

you smile as you feel the rush of wind on your face

("it's working", you say to yourself)

higher and higher the kite flew

bobbing up and down in the marble blue sky

higher and higher

smaller and smaller

until it became the size of a paper clip

you squint your eyes from the blinding sun

and you try to measure the kite with your index and thumb

it's so small, you think

so small.

the spool is spinning as it went even further up.

and the yarn is getting few.

you hold on to what is left.

but then, you want your kite to soar higher

let it take your dreams to heaven

(someone up there might just hear your wishes)

and you just let go

of the thin yarn that connects you and the red diamond paper.

the paperclip.

smaller and smaller.

until it faded into the blue marble sky.

Labels: ficlet

A memory on|6:15 PM by starzickle 0 wrote back: Let us know |

________________