end of the afternoon. the bird is crazy for its first fly.
the sun is setting. the bird goes to the window. stares at the pink clouds and pale blue sky.
presses its hands to the grid until they bleed, but nothing happens.
all the bird wants is to reach the sky. but the sky is unreachable. and while the blood goes down to its arms and slowly drips to the ground and it gets filled with pain, it's still staring at the clouds and the sky. the bird's wings were useless.
or were they just being reprimanded for all this time?
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