Let Me Fly

Let me fly

Picture Source: A Week For Writing

I was child when I thought to fly;
I called my Mum and urged, “Mumum, I want to fly!”
She said austerely, “You can’t fly, my boy.”
I rethought, “Mum is lying!”
She found me rebuking, “Why? Why can’t I fly? Why these birds can only fly and I can’t? ”
She fondled over my head and said, “My little boy wants to fly?”
I mouthed myself zestfully, “Yes, Mum. I want to!”
Silence in the air, squirming sensation in my body, thoughts whirling in my brain,
Ceased me shut!
Silence also abated as I cried, “Mumum, I want to fly.”
She tried to calm me saying, “I’ll teach you how to fly, once we’re done with our supper.”
I waited for the moment.
She would even not teach me after the dinner.
She saw my eyes twinkling with hope.
She went to array the pillows and titillated me, beckoning me on the bed.
She ordered me to sprawl over the bed.
I did as I was directed, after all, she is my Mum.
She asked, “Do you really want to fly??”
I replied yes.
Caressing her fingers on my head,
Sometimes on my belly,
Vellicating me,
Hypnotising me, she sent me into the world, where I could fly.
Erelong I fell asleep!
Travelling into the world of surreal,
I could feel I was levitating, in the sky, on the ground!
I could also hear Mum saying, “You are flying, you are flying......!”
I kept on flying in that world.
The voice anon turned into a mere murmur.
Soon the murmur faded and everything went tenebrous.
The last saying I remember was screaming, “I’m flying,” in the surreal world.

This post is a part of picture prompt.

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