Marva said she’d always wanted to fly. I wasn’t about to stand in her way. After all, that would only interfere with the delicate takeoff procedure.
I’m not going to beat around the bush about all this. I’m not like that any more. The fact is, she flew that day. Right up into the clouds, don’t you know. She flew like the canary escaping the coal mine.
To be honest, I never thought she’d go airborne. Chasin' the wild blue yonder was easily the most ambitious of her various dreams. First it was regional croquet champion, then substitute parade marshal and now this.
I may not have a Master's degree in divine providence studies, but I know a miracle when one stimulates my sensory facilities. Seeing my Marvie soaring into the sky-colored firmament looming indifferently overhead with Icarus-avenging gusto made me believe in my own dreams again—dust off the old dream box, as it were. But night was falling, and my arms flap their best at 1:27pm. --Jawn Steighmeaus
Illustration by Chris Peebles