This one was for our QCS test, we had to write within the subject of 'flight' and then focus on a main idea (the kite (as well as the hair, smell, the bees, the water droplets 'flying'))
For a set subject and time limit I was pretty happy with it :).
I walked outside and felt a breeze pick up and take strands of my hair off temporarily with it for a dance. I stroked them behind my ear and, as if disapointed and offended they could not join it for any length of time, it died down.
Then, as carefree as myself this beautiful Spring day it played with the leaves, taking them as it's next dancing partner, the soft rustle creating their accompaniment. A few leaves still stiff from Winter flew off and joined it forever.
I smiled and laughed: if the wind could interpret my happiness as contrite for it's loss of my hair, move on, and be merry, it would be a good day.
I took another step on my journey and smelled the earth. That deep, rich, pungent, almost mesmerizing smell that wafts on the breeze after rain has fallen filled my nostrils.
It was sweetly infused with the busy bees pollinating the flowers, jostling them around, letting their scent off high into the air.
I looked at the bees, so happy doing their job, flying here, darting their. One minute intently inspecting one flower then moving onto the next.
Then I remembered why I was here. I looked down to my hands and went on my way, determined not to be distracted again for I had my own venture, and while bees were fascinating I preferred to fly myself.
I trudged up a hill and felt it. I knew it would be soon.
But I stopped regardless. I came to a little stream and sat down beside it, letting myself be carried away on it's mellifluous torrent of music.
Then I remembered again, not to let myself be distracted. I quenched my thirst with the streams crystal clear, melodious water. As I leaned down I see the water hit a rock and seemingly in slow motion, droplets flew off in their own little adventure, only to join it again and go flowing on it's way.
I stood up and felt it again, it was close. It was just up ahead, the perfect spot. I pushed through the leaves of a low branch and came upon this huge, lush expanse of grass, a beautiful open meadow. Ample room for a run up, lot's of open space above for more difficult maneuvers.
So without thinking I ran as hard and as fast as I could. I looked back, got the angle right and let go. I kept running and it got higher and higher.
I fell. Lost my footing and came crumpling down into a heap in the grass.
Pain shot through my leg and I lost all hope. I gave up.
Then I felt it.
A small tug.
As small as the light at the end of the tunnel, but both grew till I looked up. I saw the kite. Flying high, gliding with the wind.
I was over come with joy, I forgot about my leg entirely. With a flick here, a movement there, drawing the string left I was looping and gliding with finesse and agility.
I was the kite. A magnificent expanse of blue surrounded me , the wind rushing past me. I was the master of it. On-top of the world. Flying.
The wind decided to feel offended again as the breeze slowly let the kite drift back to me. I didn't feel sad but happy. I had flown like my hair, like the leaves, like the scent on the breeze, like the bees like the water droplets.
It was escape and it was beauty.