Wings

They were standing dangerously close to the edge of the cliff, they behavior seemed to make no sense at all. A strong wind, a sudden change and they all would have fallen, taken to flying like autumn leaves do when letting go of the branch after deciding the high breeze is safe to fall into.

But the wind hasn't changed and the figures remained, waiting. Waiting and anticipating the arrival of the wind because they were not going to fall. One would think that surly, the wind will rip them off the cliff and drop them into the abyss below to crash on sharp rocks and weekend campers' left behind tins. They knew it would not.

They were not going to fall because they had wings. Magnificent, bright, sparkling sails that they now freed from underneath their cloaks, unfolding them into the bright morning sun never to hide them again. All five were standing angle like, resting their eyes on the world below. And suddenly the wind they were waiting on came and off they went. They began their lifelong journey in the skies never to touch the ground with their feet, never to hide their wings beneath dusty cloaks, never to return to the place where they were born.

Written 10m 08s

Typed 08m 42s

Edited 05m 03s