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In short(hand)

July 6, 2014

There are moments she dreams of taking flight, defying gravity as she slips through the wispy blue into the heights of heaven, soaring with the grace normally reserved for swallows and angels and petals blown on the wind.

More often, however, her thoughts turn to the passionate dance of wild fire, the fury of unintimidated flames thundering their light into the darkness and shattering it with laughter’s explosive percussion.

And sometimes, in between the two, she mourns the years she believed all she was told:  that nobody really flies, and fire is too dangerous, and so she should learn to take dictation and get a nice safe secretary job.

 

 

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