A new short story, flash fiction (c) 2012 by C. N. Nevets
I know I can fly. More than that. I know, deep within my bones, as sure as I know anything, that I was meant to fly. When I look out over the cliff at the stretching forth of sea and clouds, I feel my blood soaring. It is who I am. I am a man who should be flying.
The gods saw fit to birth me onto this earthly plane with no wings. To leap from this this cliff, to lay claim to my birthright, would surely be the death of me. I am not suicidal.
I look out at the stretching forth of sea and clouds.
Deep within my bones.
I feel my blood sobbing.