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Time for Plan B

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I stand atop the slide
looking down on Drew's eager face.
The tape,
holding the cardboard to my scrawny arms,
pulls at the short blond hairs on my bronzed skin.

Breath held.
Back arched.
Arms spread.
Knees bent.
I leap,
I soar,
I glide

Then, all at once,
our dreams of flight,
are crushed.

Like Newton's stupid apple,
I plop to the ground.
Drew's defeated expression
reflects mine like a mirror.

Time for plan B.





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