Learning to fly.

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Flash fiction from July 2014

Song Bird Songs

unreal

Looking down from dizzy heights he trembled feeling his inadequacy, unable to launch off. Home had become uncomfortable, no longer the cosy nest of childhood. He felt prodded, wounded even, father reluctant to feed him, insisting he was old enough to forage for himself. His siblings had already gone soaring to dizzy heights, looking down on him he feared.
A sudden upsurge of inspiration seized upon him. He opened his wings feeling its soothing caress. Then suddenly he was airborne, the wind lifting him in its arms like a lover.
First there was a slight panic as he lost altitude. Then, as by instinct he tilted his wings catching the updraft, joy coursed through his being. He was at one with the elements, finding total freedom soaring on the wings of the wind. He knew then in his heart, he was born to be an eagle!

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Intuition?

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head

Not sure I’d call it intuition, but some call it that. Personally I have more of a picture of my poor weary angel (who really ought to get time and a half for what he has to put up with) banging his forehead in frustration telling God, “I’ve tried everything but she’s just not listening!” LOL!

Generally that “still small voice” tends to only be able to get through when I’m half asleep (my golden time for solutions.)