Icarus
Rachel Lofgren
I am free!
The feeling is incredible, like nothing I have ever experienced before. I have nothing to compare it to besides what a bird must feel. The height, the wide clear blue sky all around me, the dark ocean below me. The freedom. At this moment I would gladly give anything to fly as a bird forever. I fly in great looping circles and experiment by tipping my arms left and right. I never want to land.
I fly lower and lower, skimming my hand in the water. My father shouts to me, warning me of the dangers. The mist will dampen the feathers in my wings and they will go limp. I laugh from sheer delight but obey him and fly back up to where he is.
The sun is warm on my back and the breeze holds me aloft in a cocoon of warmth. I am content for the first time since Minos imprisoned me and my father in the labyrinth. The warmth above entices me and I climb a little higher. My father has not noticed. So I climb even higher, and the sun is getting warmer, the higher I get. It is wonderful.
Down on the earth it is so cold. But up here in the sky, close to the sun, it is warmer than I have ever been. I float on the breeze, resting my arms. I hear my father shouting my name, and I look down. He has a look of terror on his face, but I do not know why.
All of a sudden I find myself slipping lower, away from the heat of the sun. I flap my wings, hoping to rise again, but I do not. I continue to fall, but there is nothing I can do. The sun has melted the wax holding my wings together.
I rush past my father, in a freefall, and he shouts my name. I reach my arm out to him, and he grasps my fingers, but I slip out of his grip. I am frightened. The ocean swells up beneath me, growing larger and larger. It is looming closer, and in a second I am swallowed up. The last thing is see is my father looking down in terrible sadness, calling my name. But the ocean snatches his voice away from me, and I see no more.
The feeling is incredible, like nothing I have ever experienced before. I have nothing to compare it to besides what a bird must feel. The height, the wide clear blue sky all around me, the dark ocean below me. The freedom. At this moment I would gladly give anything to fly as a bird forever. I fly in great looping circles and experiment by tipping my arms left and right. I never want to land.
I fly lower and lower, skimming my hand in the water. My father shouts to me, warning me of the dangers. The mist will dampen the feathers in my wings and they will go limp. I laugh from sheer delight but obey him and fly back up to where he is.
The sun is warm on my back and the breeze holds me aloft in a cocoon of warmth. I am content for the first time since Minos imprisoned me and my father in the labyrinth. The warmth above entices me and I climb a little higher. My father has not noticed. So I climb even higher, and the sun is getting warmer, the higher I get. It is wonderful.
Down on the earth it is so cold. But up here in the sky, close to the sun, it is warmer than I have ever been. I float on the breeze, resting my arms. I hear my father shouting my name, and I look down. He has a look of terror on his face, but I do not know why.
All of a sudden I find myself slipping lower, away from the heat of the sun. I flap my wings, hoping to rise again, but I do not. I continue to fall, but there is nothing I can do. The sun has melted the wax holding my wings together.
I rush past my father, in a freefall, and he shouts my name. I reach my arm out to him, and he grasps my fingers, but I slip out of his grip. I am frightened. The ocean swells up beneath me, growing larger and larger. It is looming closer, and in a second I am swallowed up. The last thing is see is my father looking down in terrible sadness, calling my name. But the ocean snatches his voice away from me, and I see no more.