Contributor: Rodney Horne 
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There are times when I look at my life and I forget who I am.

I put my head down beneath the waves. I get lost. Currents of hate and confusion smash against my nose, my face, blind me. Anxieties rise up to cling at shoulders, bite and hook into muscles, dragging, always dragging. Long cords of responsibility and tradition wrap themselves around my ankles, pull me deeper, deeper, until all I can see is the darkness, the murky nothing and the pains of the present.

And then I remember my wings. I stretch them, feel them catch air. In an instant, I turn to light, slip graceful through the chains, the hooks, the cords. Anxieties fall away, my eyes clear, and then I am flying, flying. In a single realization, a single smile, I rise above the waves, remember who I am, remember. . .

And take flight again.

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Dr. Rodney Horne lives on a hillside with his wife and his two cats. Having retired from technical writing, he has been published in Neometropolis Magazine, The Opinion Magazine, and Armitage Hand (AHNR).
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