Controlled Flight

(If you're looking for it, it's gone.  It won't be back.  I don't really know who saw it.  It never should have been here, and that's all.  If you read it, I'm sorry for it.  I can't always be pretty or tame for you.  If you don't know that by now, you should.)

_____________________________________

I'm running away tomorrow.  It's a sort of a controlled flight.  If I open the cage door, unfurl my wings and fly out for awhile, feel the sun on my back, taste free air, I might not notice the long string on my ankle designed to bring me in at the end of the day.  I have felt like hell for the past several days, but travel usually helps to recreate my soul, so maybe after tomorrow, I'll feel better.  Maybe I'll find something new to rekindle that essential spark of wonder inside me.  Right now, with everything that's been going on, I feel hollowed out, tired, hurt, and dead.  I'll use the motion of the wheels to heal it.  I'll use the lens of the camera to heal it.  And at the end of the day, if that hasn't worked, well, there is a river bridge in Natchez, and miles of road past it to places I have never seen.....