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Flapping away

She sat on the window ledge
ready to take the plunge,
and fly into the unknown.
Her wings were eager to face the wind,
and she wasn't worried about the clouds or the rain.
She had painted her wings in the colour of the sky.
An attempt to merge in it, the day she decides to fly. 

The moment had arrived.
She closed her eyes, spread her wings, and let go of everything that was holding her back.
She flew.
The wind held her hand and took her away.
She flapped her wings, tumbled down, and glided through the narrow alley.

She had flown far from where she had started.
The rains were stronger here.
Little droplets were replaced by giant splashes of water.
Soon her wings started to ache and she gasped for air.
She looked around for shelter and flew down.

Perched on the stone pavement, she looked at her reflection in a tiny puddle.
Her wings were torn.
And the colours had run into each other.
Whatever remained resembled muddy gray blotches with scanty streaks of blue and orange.
Lost were the perfectly drawn lines,
and imperfections had taken over.

"If those are the colours that chose me,
I shall live with them", she told herself.
And then she crawled back home,
deciding to wait for a sunny day when she could once again flap her wings and fly into the unknown.

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