break free
He dreamt of wings sprouting from the flat, broad plane of his shoulders, but could not learn, in the small space of his slumber, how to work them. This disturbed him greatly, so he hurled himself from the summit of the impossibly high cliff on which he'd found himself. Expecting the tyrant pull of gravity, the shotgun blast of wind tearing past his face, he was mildly surprised to feel himself buoyed by a cushion of warm air, plush as flesh. And all about him as he fell, the gentle moth-rustle of pages, fluttering.
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