Flying (Padfoot)

He watched the birds flying over head. He wished he could do that. Fly to freedom, I mean. He had hurt himself trying. He called to the birds to wait 'cause he would be up there soon.

He sat back on the porch steps. Just a sprain. Once that healed he would be back up there. He sipped his lemonade and watched the last little birdie flitter back. He went in the house for a refill.

When he came back TONS of birds were speeding over his small little house. "I'll join you in awhile." He said, streching his wings.

The End

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