Just practicing.
Running down the immacualtely tended palace lawns towards the sea. My arms outstreched, breathing in time to the sea. First the sea asks to carry me, then the wind sweeps me from my feet. Higher, higher, higher. Up, up and away.
Off the end of the cliffs I go, the long strong wings beating against the currents. The freedom to go faster and higher. The honk of the swan in excitement - he hasn't been out in a long time... Banking round, we land on the water.
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