such as it is
I tried to fly last night. The road undulated slowly as the cool, dry air made way for my legs, rising and falling on the pavement in time.
The spottily overcast sky was deeply grey but had a rose tint from the light pollution. Closer to the earth the curbs were swept clean except for a few stray seed pods lingering in the crook of the concrete. I crossed over inky shadows thrown by the streetlamps cutting through the overhanging trees, flanking perfectly manicured lawns. All around me houses slept. Some had illuminated porch lights; most were dark. Shades were pulled down, lidded windows immune to the charms of their respective yards.
My emotions were already brimming as they are wont to do during any type of consistent exertion. The threshold for adrenaline is invariably higher when my body is occupied in that type of endeavor.
I sprinted out of the jog a few steps and leaped up into the air, pushing my arms and hands downward and pulled my legs in. I hung in the air half a second, maybe more before I came down and resumed my previous gait. I closed my eyes and pushed ahead another dozen steps or so. I tried to recall every dram of hope and faith present in my dreams. It wasn’t something unfamiliar. It wasn’t a wholly unknown realm. I could remember running down gangways before vaulting into the air, my rate of ascent pulling my heart into my feet. I thought about times when I would just stand in place and rise upwards, and jumping without the inevitable fall. Some of them had seemed more immediate than the shrouded reality I found myself in last night. Especially with the way my senses partially close themselves on a run my feet know very well; I can run eyes half open, wind rushing idly by my ears, body in a state of dynamic equilibrium while the hypnotic footfalls give my mind license to range far and wide.
I’m ready for the next world.