text: In through the nose, out through the mouth. A mantra he’d repeated as long as he could talk. It was how his parents calmed him down during temper tantrums, how he’d prepared to act in his school play, how he worked up the courage to ask a girl to dance. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Nothing could prepare him for this. One of the only memories that lasted longer than his favorite eight words was standing on his kitchen table, bicycle helmet on, and arms spread wide. He’d announced, “I’m going to fly!” and jumped into his father’s welcoming embrace. In through the nose, out through the mouth. He remembered his conversation with his high school sweetheart at 3 a.m. She’d brought up that she would love the superpower to turn invisible. She could sneak up on her older brother and give him a nasty wedgie. She could sneak peeks at whatever she wanted, from test answers to gossip-inducing text conversations. He’d disagreed, that the only one he ever could want or need was the power to fly. There was no single reason, really. He just wanted to be able to jump out his window and leave at a moment’s notice. Just like that, there would be no one to stop him. To start flying and decide where to go once he was already in the air. In through the nose, out through the mouth. The evening air chilled his skin, with only his hot breath warming his lips. Regardless of the cold outside, his heart warmed from the memory, and the anticipation. In through the nose, out through the mouth. The music of the wind tickled his ears, and its gentle touch ran through his hair. It caressed his face as a single, joyous tear wrenched itself free from his tightly shut eye. In through the nose, out through the mouth. It was time. He unfurled his wings. Wings that had appeared only that morning, folded against his back. Wings that matched his hair both in color and in the way they felt when the breeze kissed them, each feather a reminder of the earthbound life he had lead up to today. In through the nose, out through the mouth. The day had rushed by, with him cautiously experimenting. He had glided from the balcony of his second floor apartment to the soft grass below. He had lifted himself off the ground by a good few inches with a single beat of his wings. He had wrapped them around himself like a blanket when his air conditioning was just a little too low. In through the nose, out through the mouth. He stood in a parking lot, vacant, except for himself and his two companions: the breeze and the setting sun. The former told him it was time, finally, to fly. It would hold him up. The latter told him how proud it was of him, and, despite its warmth leaving, its love would not. It would shine just a little longer if he could rise high enough. In through the nose. He brought his wings down, with as much strength he could muster. Out through the mouth. His body responded, the earth falling away. In through the nose. He repeated the motion, his feet now more than two feet off the ground. Out through the mouth. He noticed people watching, and elected to ignore them. In through the nose. The wind whistled past, giving him extra oxygen with which to fuel his already aching muscles. Out through the mouth. The sun whispered quiet encouragement. In through the nose. Each downward stroke more powerful than the last, he continued to rise. Out through the mouth. The stars began to appear, twinkling like cameras in a stadium. In through the nose. The moon began to rise, the lighted half echoing the sun. Out through the mouth. The dark half was silent. In through the nose. His wings pushed down again. Out through the mouth. He was above the rooftops now. In through the nose. The clouds came ever closer. Out through the mouth. The sun kissed him goodnight. In through the nose. He rose some more. Out through the mouth. He rose. In through the nose. Out through the mouth. He was flying He was **flying**. He lunged forward, clumsily, and tumbled headfirst into an awkward, but effective position. His wings spread wide, flapping downward whenever he needed a boost up. He soared in a straight line. The city beneath him shone like the now very visible stars above. He shouted his approval to the heavens, for all to hear. He gave it his all, since no words could truly describe how he felt. It was exhilarating. Unbelievable. Life-changing. Indescribable. He banked left, his eyes wandering across the landscape. The wind rushing past his face made his eyes tear up, or was that happening anyway? He **flew** past a radio tower. He **flew** past the downtown skyscrapers, and he **flew** for two hours. He went sightseeing from the clouds, past the airport where his fellow aviators piloted their machines, never truly experiencing flight in the way he could. He dove low and skirted the coastline, watching with a smirk as the night surfers and potheads performed comical double takes at his visage. He had expected his friend, the wind, to turn on him when he was moving this fast, but it did not. It still caressed his face, only with more intensity. It did as it promised, and held him aloft, allowing him to soar among the clouds, under the watchful eyes of the half-moon and stars. Lazily drifting over the city, he realized his muscles were beginning to ache, and his lack of experience meant that could lead to problems, despite the help of the wind and his celestial guardians. He guided himself back to his starting place and spread his wings wide, not flapping until he was close to the ground. He landed with a little too much momentum. His knees braved the impact and didn’t buckle, though they wanted to. He stood, barely able to believe the last two hours were real. Knees bent, arms and wings held out to his sides, he stood, the memories replaying through his head like lightning cutting through a stormy sky. He straightened, his body aching, his mind on overdrive, an amazed grin plastered across his face. Suddenly remembering something he had forgotten, he breathed. In through the nose, out through the mouth.