Noa

She strolled in the quiet of the park. Swan, floating on the familiar pond caught her eye just beyond the bridge. It was much dirtier than when she waded in all those years ago. She held still with his still. Mindfully she stroked his feathers, downy softness on her fingertips and her muscles softened. Why would anyone clip his wings that he should never fly again or even worse, never have sensed the freedom of flight and she thought

What held her back? Some distant past she couldn’t remember? Ancient cells comfortable staying invisible and deep in the emerald a window cracked, a light flashed and she jumped for joy …