Freedom

It flew around the room without regard to anyone or anything other than what appeared to be the simple joy of flying. How it didn’t bump into anything seemed almost astonishing, but then we poor mortals are not created with the same flying attributes.

Four times. Five times. And it continued around and around. If we didn’t know better it would almost seem as if it were set on a specific course, almost like a NASCAR race, but without the competition to interfere with its path.

We continued watching, but now we started feeling our own desire to be as free, to be able to fly without fetters, just for the simple joy that freedom could induce.

For nearly an hour it flew without seeming to tire.

We left the windows open as we exited the room, just in case it wanted to leave.

An hour later it was still flying.

Two hours later it was gone.

The apparent joy of flying around the room had transfixed us with a new sense of freedom. Now we wanted to spread our wings and fly too, but, as humans, our flying would be restrained by gravity, but not our hearts and minds.

We too would fly.

The End

4/13/19

http://www.brucelevine.com

https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B07485W4Q1

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