Releasing yourself to the stars, you feel elated, vibrant, at peace. For once, finally at peace. Problem is, in doing so, you condemned her to walk through the mud alone. You held one wing while she held the other.
Her hands reach skyward, a silent prayer on her lips. You fly in ethereal bliss, unaffected. The star reflected in her shining eyes flickers and dims but you’re too far away to see that. All that matters now is ascension as her cold hand falls to her side.
Patience, they say, is a virtue and one you never much cared for anyway.
tara caribou | ©2020