Sewing myself a pair of wings.
By night my wings were made. I am the rider of the air. I ate scorpions for dinner. They came at me from the pond but I was faster.
When morning came I waited for the wind but none came. So I took my walk…sighting a mountain ahead…of I could climb the mountain…I would leap from the peak and fly!
And so I did…from the mountain peak I leapt into the hands of the desert wind. And lo…I fly.
High as a bed..my hands were tired of lifting the wings but my spirit was high…I got drunk with happiness…I didn’t see the storm approaching…
PS: this is the second part…I will post the third on Wednesday.
Thank you for reading.