FLYING CARPET (Part 1)

Not all freedom is chosen

It floated in the sky,
riding the jet stream,
going where it wished.

Up.
Down.
Left.
Right.

Sometimes, when the mood struck,
the girl and her carpet disappeared into endless wind,
spinning through storms without direction.

Always moving.

Always together.

Until one day,
the wind stopped.

The carpet drifted down
and came to rest.

The girl lay still.
She welcomed the quiet.

Then the wind returned,
a whisper at her side.

It’s time.

She did not move.

It came again,
stronger now,
lifting at the edges.

She pressed herself down,
made herself heavy.

No.

The wind did not argue.
It waited.

Then, finding a single corner,
it lifted.

And she was gone.