Taking Flight-the story

19×24in. acrylic on cardboard

“Best be home by dark,” Grandma said. “There’s hoards of villains out there tonight.”
Bart knew she was referring to the festival being held at the shipping docks. The fleet was in. The celebration began at noon. He would still be in school.
Bart liked the excitement of hundreds of people from neighboring towns descending on the dull, but pretty village. He also had an odd thrill regarding the sailors who had arrived. He didn’t understand why. It reminded him of a movie where people sang and danced in the streets and people went wild and danced and lost control. It reminded him of a big city. He had a yearning to escape the quiet country life he had grown up in.
At school he looked out of the window and daydreamed. He stared at clouds and rock walls and distant hills and flags and birds and the sky that changed color as he watched.
The excitement of the celebration was everywhere when he left to go home. He wanted to run and watch. He wanted to see fights in the street and couples dancing on the boardwalk and laughter and wild abandon.
Yet, Grandma’s voice rang in his head like the continual warning of a truck backing up.
He turned a corner. The street was blocked off at the end. He say banners and a throng of people. He cut through a vacant lot and turned down an alley. The alley led to a very old church. The yard was overgrown with weeds and in one corner tombstones pushed up through wild flowers and grass. He made his way across stone steps and reached the other side that led to a lane that ran through the woods and connected to his own home’s street.
Suddenly he heard a sound of laughter. He saw nothing. Then a clump of bushes vibrated.
He ran past a dead tree trunk, a pile of burned trash and a broken bottle. Suddenly everything seemed unfamiliar. He turned and realized the forest was completely changed. The trees seemed larger and the ground was covered with a thick mass of moss that was about two feet high. He could no longer see the sky because masses of vines hung overhead.
He ran and the laughter followed. He came to a rock wall that he had never seen and tried to leap over. Instead he fell on his face. The laughing sounds grew louder until he thought his ears would explode.
He pulled himself up and reached to the sky. He imagined himself flying. Suddenly his arms moved and gigantic wings of air and space billowed around him. He began to float.
His first thought was to go home to safety.
Then he realized that this could be his only chance to escape.
He aimed his body over the water, over the tall ships, over the mountains, over the highway, and flew to the unknown world of dreams, illusions, make-believe and continual laughter. Suddenly it dawned on him that he had been trying to escape the laughter and now that was what he wanted more than anything.
He flapped his wings harder. And began to laugh.

Taking Flight-the story

John Fish

Los Angeles, United States

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Artist's Description

Very Short Story

Artwork Comments

  • meltaylor
  • EmeraldSun
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