| He would pose at the exact moment when his upward
trajectory reached its apex and gravity took hold. Then, arms spread wide,
he would plummet into the cold water to the sounds of the laughter and applause
of his family. One by one they would soar across the landscape and splash
into the water, then swim back to shore and wait their turn on the grass covered
hill next to the old tree from which the tire swing hung. While he waited
for another turn he often dreamt of far away places. He pictured himself as
a business man in a finely tailored suit, or a pilot in B-52 bomber, or an
explorer like he’d seen in movies, traveling to distant places in search of
ancient relics worth untold fortunes. They were secret dreams. He kept them
to himself, not wanting the others to laugh at him. But he thinks of them
often now and wonders, still, what it’s like to soar, unfettered through the
endless skies. Then, an excited hand would tap him on the shoulder, disturbing
his reverie. It was his turn to swing on the tire again. He would forget everything
then and launch himself into the air once more, posing in midair, arms at
his side like a man striving to soar into the sky. Then, spreading his arms
wide like an eagle, the sun touching the water on his skin he would glitter
for a single perfect moment in blue sky of his dreams before hurtling back
towards earth and diving into the crisp cold waters of reality. She came back a year later, and walked across the sand. |
