My invalid arguments are true but if I prove it to you they will not longer be invalid.
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I used to fly. It was a power I thought everyone else had but never spoke about. I often wondered where the power came from. When I was in my bedroom and everyone had quieted down I would close my eyes and concentrate. A few moments and I would focus on a purple oscillating diamond shape that would form in my mind's eye. Just below the diamond would be a field of orange flame that would grow or shrink if I concentrated on it. When I focused on the diamond shape the orange field would shrink. Once the diamond was in sharp focus I would open my eyes and the shape would still be visible. That is how I knew it was real and how I knew I really did fly.
The diamond gave me power. I would focus on it with my eyes closed or open and it would oscillate faster. Then it happened. The first time I flew was an odd experience. I floated above the bed and sort of hung in the air uncertain what to do or how it had worked. I looked like a pajama outfit that had been hung on the clothes line with pins and forgotten. There was no breeze lifting me. I just had to concentrate. Then swift as thought I flew right through the wall and flew down the hall and into the living room. I liked to fly high in case someone was up. I did not want to be discovered. One time I was flying near the ceiling in the living room and my parents were on the striped green coach watching Johnny Carson. My mother looked right at me. I was so startled at being discovered that I just hovered there for a moment. I thought I was invisible at the time, but she ordered me to go back to bed. She didn't say a word about flying, only "GO BACK TO BED"! I returned to my sanctum, sank back onto the bed and felt despondent. How did she notice me? Why were my parents still awake? It was then I noticed my diamond had faded. I willed it back but it would not stay. I focused. It was gone. I knew instinctively I could not fly. I tried anyway. I concentrated very hard without the diamond oscillating in my view and my full forty pounds felt like a massive bulk. I didn't even lift off the sheets. Tired, I slept. I soon learned my powers were weakened by discovered, but slowly given time they would return. Sometimes it took days before I could do it again. I waited until it was very late. I concentrated. The diamond returned. It was sharp in detail and the most beautiful fairy-purple in color. I thought of it as my true-self...my muse...the source of my power. Without the diamond I would fade, becoming a shade of what I had once been. The diamond spun with such speed I felt heat on my cheeks. I lifted off the bed and flew like a swift through the house. I ventured outside. I wish I could explain how it felt to fly. The big difference between flying and walking is more than gravity. It is spiritual. My body worked with me instead of against me. When I walk there is the ever-present concern with tripping, bumping into objects and watching where I am going. Walking requires physical and mental effort. Flying is the joining of the mind with the body in an effortless, effervescent, exhilarating experience. The time between thought and action is seamless. The memory of flight is burned into my soul long after the ability to do so has expired. I remember. So how did I lose this precious gift? I remember the exact moment. My father took me on a trip. Dad liked to take me in the car for rides. We would go for just a half hour, or half way across the country. Always there was beautiful landscape and water. Dad loved water. On one of these trips before my sixth birthday we stopped at a scene of incredible beauty. This must have been one of those scenic outlooks you would find along many highways. I remember looking over the edge of a cliff at an incredible lake far below us. I marveled that there was no rail. There was just a light chain attached to a pole. My father held my hand and we crossed the chain barrier to get a better look. He warned me to be careful and stay away from the edge of the cliff. At some point he let go of my hand. This was my chance to show him my powers. I really wanted to impress my dad. If he could see me flying above this lake, or hovering beyond his reach I knew he would look at me with pride. Perhaps he would even take me to an ice cream stand! I leaped over the cliff. What happened next was unclear. I hovered for a moment. This I am quite certain on. Then things got jumbled in my thoughts and I began to fall like a rock. My dad grabbed my arm. Wordless at first he carried me beyond the barrier. "What were you thinking?" he said. "Nothing. I wanted to show you..." "Don't ever let go of my hand again or I won't take you anywhere." "okay." "Do not tell your mother about this." "I won't." I didn't. I never flew again. I couldn't. I tried everything. I even tried jumping up and down to give myself a boost. It was gone. I lost the power to fly. I can still tell you how it felt. The sense of being limitless. The day my father saved my life from falling to my death is my greatest memory of him and yet it was the worst failure of my life. I knew then, not quite six that I was an adult. I knew that I had limits. For many years I forgot about the oscillating purple diamond. I forgot how to summon it. One day I remembered and with effort I brought the diamond back. It was always there, somewhere deep in my reserves. I do not understand its purpose. Maybe it has none. I risk losing it just by telling you about it. Maybe the diamond's power reshapes as my needs change. I use it now to give power to words. Some days my writing is an effort like walking, but I hope one day my stories will fly. |
Dean StevensI am responsible for all that appears before you. Categories
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