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The Feather’s Journey

The Feather’s Journey
Isla Hinton

I float down ever so swiftly from side to side, my tranquil, delicate outer vanes flicker whenever the breeze quickens. High above the alluring world I start to wonder if I am anything more than just a particular nobody, still I question if the universe itself would see me as more than just a lone nobody but an audacious somebody. Now I now hover atop the cloud unsure if it will stay at its overcast colour or if I will have to hope that my journey is not over.
The bleak, vast clouds I knew would be the most vigorous part of my unified voyage but I have been through abhorrent conditions in my lifetime so this would be another one of those moments. Nothing but pale, creamy white puffs of clouds. After what felt like forever, I reached the end of the cloud and as I expected, rain started to dripple.
Ever so nonchalantly, and then a drizzle and then what felt like a thunderous outcry… and then it was all a blur. I had been in ghastly weather before, but nothing like this. One hit of one raindrop and I was done for.
I desired only one thing. To speed up. Down I drift, thinking only of the possible future if I don’t hasten up. Quicker I fall… quicker and quicker and quicker until it was nearly impossible to slow down. A haze. That is the last thing I remember when that raindrop hit me. A haze. I knew this was bound to happen at some point during my life, but when it really happens it is more dire that expected. If you ask me how it happened my only answer would be “I don’t know.”, if you ask me how I survived my only answer would be “I don’t know.” It is all a distant memory and the past is the past.
I shan’t mention it in future conversation but now I know that maybe this fall was for the best and helped me to realise that now I could be considered as a somebody that the world will know. A survivor. As my inner veins start to dry out my journey is back in business. While I was wet and thinking that this was my last sight of the imposing Earth, I had fluttered my way downwards and now I was only a few feet above some of the tallest trees. I might be able to make it, I might make it to the floor of Earth.
I was so used to living in the blue, susceptible sky, was I really going to be able to adapt so quick to my new adjustments. I was just below the trees as I asked myself ‘Why am I doing this? Why am I going through so much strife for something I have no reason to do?’ At the start, I could have told myself the answer to that… but now, I don’t see a reason…