The Flyer

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I can hear the distant echoes….the pitter patter of her tiny footsteps and my nervous cringes with her every fall. But as she grew she wandered faster, looking for adventure. Her head, it seemed, was in the clouds, there was no way to catch her. When next I turned, she’d disappeared and I looked up to the sky. It seems some were not meant to walk, some were meant to fly.

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