The Kite | A short story
I craned my neck to watch the kite fly into the air. It became a speck in the sky and I laugh into the air. The kite became stationery and I lay down in the field, the grass itching my skin, but it didn't bother me at the time. I held tight to the string and saw the kite settle in its place above the clouds and wind.
When it tried to pull out of my hands, I pulled back, not letting the kite out of my sight. It floated and beckoned me to give some slack. I did and it became smaller and smaller up there in the atmosphere. That kite was probably breathless up there - oxygen lacking.
I've always had trouble seeing that things would be okay. They'd always be okay, one way or the other. I glanced down at my hands, the kite string pulling between my fingers, wanting to escape. I tightened my grip and breathed deep, anxiety rising in my chest. I couldn't let go. Ever.
I sat up on the grass, overthinking the outcomes of certain situations. Forgetting times when the garden behind the house once had no rain for months. Months of drought. Months of dirt dust flying in the dry summer heat.
But, eventually, it would rain. It always did at some point.
Why is it so hard for me to let go?
Why do I keep hold of this string, never to see what would happen if I let the kite go where it pleased. I looked down at the string, my hair blowing into my eyes, dusk coming over the mountains and the kite becoming a silhouette in the colorful sky.
Worry pulsed through my veins at the thought of throwing out every made-up outcome in my mind. The idea of tossing aside every what if and watching with ease as the kite soared with complete freedom into the horizon felt nearly impossible to me. But, maybe I'd see it again, or maybe not. But, I thought, at least the kite would be free.
And at that, I let the strings slip through my fingertips and the kite soared into the milky way. And I breathed deep, smiling.
Copyright 2018 Carolyn Emily Photography