Saturday, December 03, 2005

Flying with the Wind

So I was at the bus stop when I had a thought. Where is my bag? Have I left it behind? It was still around my shoulder, but it was so light I couldn't feel it. We had become one.

Sometimes I feel so light it's as if I don't have a body; I'm as light as the wind.

It would be such fun to go flying with the wind.

Enocia