On Teaching Her to Fly (Dream)

We were in a rush. It was going on to be the late afternoon, and we had to get going. The bus had already been 10 minutes late, we couldn’t possibly wait any longer, and where we had to go was all the way across town. We only had one other option.

I didn’t want to admit to her my deepest secret; my power. I didn’t want to expose to her this impossible gift. The potential for me to be locked up in a looney bin just by trying to explain to her my chemical complexity was a major risk, let alone another friendship lost would send me to my death, for certain… But, she needed to get across town and I made sure of myself that she would make it.

And so I zipped up my sweater, tightened my wool tweed fedora, and grabbed her hands.

“This bus is not gonna come, so I’m gonna teach you how to fly.”

I held her hands up in the air against mine and laced the fingers. I then told her to shut her eyes.

“Listen to me, be very quiet and listen.”

She paused, “Okay.”

“Alright, now I want you to imagine a darkness around you, a darkness so pure and lacking in any matter, no light, no energy, not even the color of black. The darkest dark you can possibly fathom.”

She sat still and I could see her eyes rolling slightly up towards the back of her head; she was imagining it.

“Do you see it?”

“Yes.”

“Alright, now I want you to allow this darkness to flow around you and through you. Relax; allow your atoms to ease a little. That’s how you can let it in.”

Her shoulders dropped; an uncommon sight for this woman.

“Do you feel it weaving in and out?”

She nodded.

“Good,” I responded, “Now I want you to imagine that darkness sinking beneath you. Let it all fall out of you and around you, allow yourself to be composed again… And let that darkness fall.”

It was beginning to happen. I saw a glow of color in her face, that peculiar, so familiar wink of light.

“Do you feel like you are light? So light, that you are floating?”

She nodded.

“Open your eyes.”

She opened them, dreamily at first; then a glint of shock ran across her amber eyes. She looked down to see that the ground was yards beneath us.

“We-we’re really flying?” she asked in bewilderment. I nodded, “Yes we are.”

“I feel so light!” she exasperated. I explained to her the process; that she, at her own will, essentially decomposed herself of unwanted or unnecessary energy, molecules, and dead cells, while simultaneously relaxing her mass and allowing space to flow in.

“Think of it kind of like an osmosis of sorts. Or a cleanse. You let go of unnecessary matter, and leave whatever is needed to live.”

“Why do I feel so happy?”

I winked at her. I answered, “Because you have to be, heavy hearts don’t float.”

She looked down at the ground, at the small roads, the tiny moving vehicles. It was such a sight to see.

“But once we get this over with,” I finished, “you are going to feel like absolute shit. Worse than any hang over you’ve ever experienced. Now let’s go.”

She followed, amazed by the impossible. And while I led the way, I always  turned back to see her; not just to make sure she was alright, but because I have never seen such an honest smile on her face before.