contaminated pt ii - [nell/day4]

nell cyprus

I fly again, hugging the ceiling, avoiding life. Hiding away where life was meant to thrive. Empty plots, yards and fences and playgrounds, trails and fields. Uninhibited. Unused. Not homes. Just houses. Buildings. Never to fulfill any sort of purpose. Resigned to props. Scenic background for some bloodshed.

I'm still bleeding from my hand, from my finger tips. Where the sword that couldn't save Sky pierced me instead. I'm still bleeding from the hand that snags on a chain as I fly past, rips my body back in one snap. I don't have time to process the whiplash. My force dislocates the chain from its tether and a string of bicycles locked to the chain begin to torpedo out of the sky. I'm pulled behind, fabric from my sleeve stuck in between links of metal. I tumble from above without grace. Loose limbs wave out, wanting to rip apart my big flowy jacket and curse it, but my sleeve won't move as fast as the bikes and me.

They begin to collide with the ground, the ceiling, and panic washes over me. I've survived killer butterflies, ice shelf crash landings, and hungry trees, but a chain of bicycles is what will kill me. My fists clench, bracing for impact, and I am surprised when I'm thrust forward by jetpack blast. The last bike and I skid to a halt, landing stabilized by accidental turbulence. Four days of flight and I still forget it's there half the time.

I'm much more comfortable with two wheels.

After catching my breath, I rummage through my bag for the old handsaw I grabbed from the giant closet. Soon after, I'm off.

Artificial air runs its fingers through my hair. The wind chills my face, frosts under my nose, cracks the corners of my lips.

I pedal faster.

ooh, i can attain it
ooh, i can attain it
ooh, i can attain it