I ran. Flapped my arms. And lifted off the snow.
My mother tried it. But it didn’t work for her.
She tried other things: hopping, running faster, flapping her arms faster—nothing worked.
She was devastated. All that effort, and it had only worked for me.
She did the entire ritual again. Maybe that was the problem. Maybe it only worked for one person at a time.
The lights were green that night, but then they turned white again. The same piercing shards pushing down from the sky.
Into her heart, into mine.
I didn’t feel so happy this time.
Just… anxious.
I threw off the fur blankets and started running again. I took off into the sky. I flew like I needed it. Because I did. Flapped hard and then started swimming in the air, my arms pulling me forward like I was swimming against a cur
