flaps arms, plummets to ground.




The complete and utter feeling of insignificance washed over him with the force of a tidal wave, almost making him stumble. Almost. Adrian wondered if this was what tiny dinosaurs felt around big dinosaurs, or how a duck feels around a swan. At this moment he was the duck and the Microraptor, staring with wide brown eyes at these machines of refined mystery and science. He’d never been much for science or mechanics, not smart kid stuff, he wasn’t cut out for it. Even with that being said, he quickly decided that these were the best things he’d ever laid eyes on. He didn’t know why he hadn’t noticed earlier.

“Cool, huh?” his redheaded friend, Thatcher, chuckled from beside him, leaning back on his elbows as he started to swing his legs over the edge. There was nothing but air for at least sixty feet down. Neither of them had ever been at this altitude, but they weren’t afraid.

“Definitely.” was Adrian’s simple answer, not needing to say a lot more; he didn’t want to ruin this. It wasn’t every day that you ended up on the roof of an international airport, and especially not in weather like this. He wanted to remember every second which could prove to be difficult if he was yammering. He watched the nearest grounded plane with rapt fascination focusing mainly on how that was almost two hundred people zooming through the air. Mind boggling whether you understand how it works or not.

The breeze curled white-blonde hair into his eyes and he brushed it back with an impatient flick of his hand, his eyes following the sleek white airplane - the one with the green tipped wings. It ran along the tarmac, turning carefully and widely at the end of it like an oversized school bus. It picked up speed as it rolled along the straight stretch of concrete, accompanied by the deafening sound of rushing air that was like music to Adrian’s ears. The heavy wheels of the plane slowly whirred and clanked until they were no longer rolling on the ground but rather in the air as lift was gathered and the plane took off. It was a slow ascent but soon the plane was soaring majestically into the clouds.

Adrian had never seen anything like this, not from this angle, not from this high up. It was different … it was humbling to see something so large move so gracefully when he himself, as small as he was, was clumsy like a newborn giraffe. The wind picked up a little and Thatcher shifted on his back, legs still swinging childishly as his knee bumped with that of his friend’s to get his attention.

“How long are we gonna be up here? Your mom wanted you home by five, and I’m not one to lie.” Thatcher asked him with his baritone, but somewhat jovial, voice.

“Just ‘till the planes stop coming.” Adrian said in a hushed breath, following the trail of passengers filing into a smaller jet near the building. “How long is that?”

Thatcher sighed with an overdramatic note, scratching just above his ear. “I don’t think they do stop coming.”

“Oh, what a pity.” Adrian replied innocently. “Guess we’ll have to stay.”

Another sigh escaped his friend but he stayed quiet, leaving things unsaid. They sat for hours, watching jet after jet rise and fall from the sky, breaking through the low layer of white clouds in an otherwise blue sky, carrying wisps of them down on the tips of their wings, streaking behind them like party streamers. Adrian wondered what it would be like to be on the wings of one of those planes as it was taking off, the exhilaration that that would bring would be outstanding. Or better yet, what it would be like to be a pilot, having complete control over such an aircraft; the view they must see from the cockpit would rival even the greatest paintings.

He stood up, pushing back with his long arms and using momentum to roll himself onto his feet. Shaky at first, having been sitting for so long, he got the hang of using his twiggy legs again and stood firmly at the very edge of the roof, tips of his scuffed sneakers hanging over the edge. Closing his eyes, he breathed in deeply through his nose, smelling cold air mixed with gasoline and the smog of the city. He carefully lifted his arms up at his sides and held them out straight, tipping his face to the sky, wanting to just take off. He longed to be in one of those planes, driving it, riding it, sitting in it, anything. To see the world from such great heights would always be incomparable to anything on solid ground.

Cold hands were suddenly at his forearms and Thatcher’s voice was near his ear, telling him that it was getting late. Adrian nodded in resignation and followed his friend back across the roof and down the stairs.



back to archive ~ <3