Chains Chapter 3

He could always hear them before he saw them, and each time he heard the roar of their engines and the muted wailings of their propellers slicing through the air faster than any pinwheel ever could, his eyes would shine with excitement as he authoritatively reminded her not to be distracted, lest a single precious second of actually seeing them be lost.

Bursting through the clouds they would emerge, bringing with them a wave of euphoria that never failed to hoist them both to their feet despite the danger of falling from atop the nest of overlapping branches. The recklessness of their actions were hardly ever a consideration, eclipsed by the wonder and amazement that captivated them as shapes and patterns of all kinds began to manifest themselves in strokes of white drawn against the azure canvas of the open skies.

In circles and loops they would dance about freely, with tails stolen from the clouds trailing behind them, a scene so breathtaking, so inspiring that no doubt did he or she ever have that one day they too would roam across the skies, leaving their legacy written high above the earth wherever the tips of their wings grazed the heavens. It was a dream they both shared in their hearts, a dream that forged a bond stronger than chains of any kind between them, a dream that they would pursue hand in hand.

Yet now, here he was, standing with powerless hands enslaved in braids of woven steel, staring out toward the horizon in hopeless abandon and futile reminiscence. Instinctively, he closed his weary eyes in search of an escape from the reality that surrounded him, but still he could find no refuge from the immense weight of regret bearing down upon his heavy heart, and into the emptiness of his inner man he began to sink.

In the blackness of the void his mind wandered, groping around in the shadows for fragments of something from the long forgotten past, pieces buried beneath the sands of time. Through waves of memories he swam, searching high and low for a glimmer of hope, however faint, and there, in the happiest years of his childhood, he finally found it, amidst binding words spoken in youthful voices between them from a time when their hands were still small and free, and from the dying echoes of that promise, new courage therein he discovered.

Out of the darkness he emerged as he opened his eyes, only this time, reflecting in his gaze the same foolish faith and brash determination from once upon a time when atop an apple tree he did stand, admiring the sheer grandeur of the limitless sky as he waited in anticipation of their arrival. And driven by that overwhelming desire, out the room he charged, like an unstoppable bullet from a rifle’s barrel, sprinting down the hallway with the pantry, past the receptionist, down the twenty one flights of stairs, across the marble-floored lobby, out the rotating door and into the streets that lay beyond.