Wisps of Childhood

2nd Place, FMS Short Story (300 Words) Contest, September, 2010 FMS Support Group, WDC

Wisps of Childhood

In his mind's eye, he was suddenly six years old again. Small and thin with laughing eyes, his blonde hair flew in the March air. It was a perfect day. Why was he suddenly crying?

Looking up, he saw his kite (he built it all by himself) flying forever above him in the brisk wind. The powerful bending diagonal with the long tail owned the skies! Running as fast as he could, the boy willed the kite to fly higher and higher. He let out even more of the string.

It was the only time the young man had built something all by himself. It was from a kit at the dime store. He had saved for two weeks to purchase this "Flying Carpet" kite. Slowly, patiently, he had constructed the struts, and enclosed the string without even one little tear. He had carefully measured, and tied the individual cloth knots that made the majestic tail. It was a shimmering mirror of bright blue and gold. Against the clear springtime sky, it looked incredible. He loved that kite! This was just about the very best Saturday morning ever.

He felt the sudden gust of cold air as the wind bounced off his body. The blast felt icy to him, and he somehow knew. Looking up, he saw the kite begin a crazy spiral toward the ground. Running first one way, then another, the boy screamed, "No!"

"I'm sorry. I'm afraid it's terminal. There's nothing we can do for you."

Tears rolled down his face, his body shaking. The echoes of his tormented cry still echoed in the sterile examination room. He knew this feeling. He had felt it before, as a young boy.

The grown man cried inconsolably. He wasn't sure exactly why.