A journal of narrative writing.
Do You Remember the Day I Left?

I've been making wings in my basement for many years now. It's time to test them. Did you know Flying Africans were seen just before the Civil War? I saw a photograph of Frederick Douglass surrounded by proud black men. It was taken before 1863. Everyone has freedom in their eyes. One man is wearing a Tuskegee Air jacket, another has an Air Jordan cap. I have pictures I purchased from a bookstore behind the AME Church. Did some angel forget them? Lately the wind comes down to watch me stand in the doorway of my cabin. It extends a hand of light when I see nothing but darkness. The wind tells me to breathe, then flutter. It tells me to stretch, then rise. Flying is nothing but memory.