“This is wonderful.” She says.
“The silence.” Her body circles mine, naked toes flicking at the long grass.
“I suppose so.”
“You suppose? Well I think it is.” She stops, puts a hand to her brow and searches for contrails. “No planes, no clouds; blue skies. Days like this should last forever.”
Her body droops.
The sun pricks at my body.
She rises and spins, throwing up a patterned parachute about her waist. I almost-.
I feel: enraptured, captivated.
Again she pauses. Her face becomes eclipsed, her expression masked.
“I feel light,” she says. Her body floats above me and she becomes a bird – outstretched fingertips made of feathers. Hollow bones.
She continues: “My feet aren’t fully grounded and it’s like: at any moment if I run fast enough, and leap, I’ll fly.”
“You’ll be the only person in the sky.” I tell her.
“Yes, I will.”