Moonshine Feathers

by LittleBabeBlue

Let me tell you before I jump. For the ground is not so far off, and I fear I won't have time to speak as I fall.

Let me tell you before I jump. For the ground is not so far off, and I fear I won't have time to speak as I fall.

I turn sixteen and on the stroke of midnight I change. I become lighter, look around like prey, my balance and sense of incoming objects strengthens. I grow these. These lovely large, heavy, feathered wings, glossy black with moonshine tips, and streaks of wine. I become paler, my hair longer in an imitation of the one I lost. My wings trail against the earth, their burden pressing against my back. Only the wind under them can relieve the weight. So I run along the ground and jump off deserted roofs. I learn to fly. And now, I jump from the Astronomy Tower and spread my wings, leaving myself behind. Leaving me crumpled at the bottom, while I soar away overhead on wings with moonshine tips.

I jump.

I spread my wings.

I fall.

I fly.