One Last Flight

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
A sheep and a man, who perceive life differently.

Submitted: July 04, 2013

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Submitted: July 04, 2013

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Standing on the edge of the precipice, I calm my mind, getting ready for my journey. A short journey it shall be indeed but i feel better than ever before. I feel like i can fly. I look out towards the unrelenting sea; wild waves crashing against the rocks below. What was a light gust has now picked up and become a gale, blowing clouds out of proportion and fluttering my hair. I look behind me at the vast field of dead grass blowing and undulating hills seemingly never ending. I see a stray sheep standing there, staring at me with curious eyes. I leap off the cliff and i feel a change. Wings spurt out from my shoulder blades. Long majestic things that lift me away with the utmost of ease. They carry me far away and out of this godforsaken place.

The sheep stands at the edge of the cliff, picking out the pieces of lovely green grass that lie here and there. It can feel the warm sun on its back, undisturbed in the cloudless sky. It stands on the cliff and gazes down. It watches the calm sea slowly sloshing its way back and forth along the beach, untroubled by the broken body that lies there. The sheep bleats and then heads back towards the field.


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