Flying

It was just a dream.

A dream...

Soaring high above the water, sunlight refracting into scattered points, I saw below the surface, into the murky depths.

Shadows moved in the water, some great, some small. I tracked them, waiting...

There!

I dove, silent, slicing the air, cutting through the wind; the rushing plumment downward made my heart sing.

Just shy of the surface, I snapped open my wings and reached, plunging my talons into the water, snatching the fish up. It wriggled, but I held it tight. I gave a sharp cry, exultant.

I flapped, once, twice, my wingtips brushing the water, creating concentric ripples until I rose up, up, ever skyward, prize clutched in my talons.

Just a dream.

I can still feel the wind...