The Kite 2.6
Part 2 - Andreas II
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The Kite
As soon as we got to the beach, my parents took out the kites. It was a tradition: write a message before letting them go. It didn’t matter what we wrote. What mattered was letting it go.
Andreas, in small handwriting, wrote: Thank you to the family who found me, and to the life I never imagined I’d find.
Adriana smiled and wrote something for her grandfather: To my grandpa, whom I miss every day. May he send me his love, wherever he is. Her eyes gleamed as she read it, and the wind recognized it.
My parents chose simple notes. My dad wrote: Peace for everyone I love. My mom, with her delicate hand, wrote: Serenity for those who are here, and for those who are gone.
I didn’t know what to write. The marker felt heavy in my hand. In the end I wrote: May the wind carry me where I’m meant to be. It wasn’t a wish. It was a certainty.
We let the kites fly. Andreas ran alongside my mom. Adriana adjusted her line with my dad. I watched from the side, feeling that somehow all of them fit together perfectly, like a family.
A metallic taste touched my tongue. The string snapped. My kite dropped hard a few yards away.
I ran to it. When I picked it up, it was ruined.
“Maybe a pigeon hit it,” my dad said, waving it off.
But it had a red stain, odd, the same as the lamb’s.
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I love how you tied the lamb into this one. Love the idea of letting kites fly your wishes away. Ominous tone though. So happy for this today!